Futile Devices
by Kronoskingofthemonkeypeople
Summary: Season 3 Fic - Olivia Pope is now the most famous woman in the world, but will she be her own 'Fixer? Will Fitz throw her under the bus to secure his re-election? Will this help me get through the next four months without Scandal?
1. Prologue

**Futile Devices – Prologue**

"What the hell is this?"

"It's called breakfast, sir, you eat it."

Cyrus scowled at the slab of grapefruit that lay on in front of him on his desk, then looked up at his secretary. "Until this _thing_ is covered in at least one layer of bacon, I'm not calling it breakfast."

"Until you're not one Senate dispute away from another heart attack, I'm not letting you anywhere near bacon." Mary countered, unamused.

He glared at her for a moment then sat up in his chair. "Do you like this job? Do you like working in the White House? Do you like the fact that you're not currently standing in the decimated ruins of the American Republic?" He questioned dramatically. "Yesterday, just one day ago, I single-handedly disarmed a doomsday device, stopped a runaway train and put freaking _Humpty Dumpty _back together again! And I did all of this while l still had little plastic tubes sticking out of my heart. I fixed the universe from a hospital bed yesterday and you think I only deserve a one flavor fruit salad?"

"Thank you for saving the universe, sir." His secretary huffed, unmoved by his tirade. "I like my job. I like being alive. But I like _you_ being alive too. So eat your grapefruit." Mary ordered gruffly, then promptly stepped out of his office and shut the door.

"_Plastic tubes!_" Cyrus shouted after her in emphasis, but then as silence fell over his office, reluctantly looked back down to his unappealing meal.

It was a good day. Everything was back to the way it should be. He wasn't about to let some poor impersonation of an orange ruin it. Picking up the small silver spoon, he clutched it tight in his fist then stabbed it down into the pink flesh.

Droplets of juice spluttered out from fruit as Cyrus dug in harder with his spoon when suddenly the room filled with the shrill ring of his cell phone. Looking over he saw the small screen light up with the name 'James Novak'.

One more thing he wouldn't let ruin his day.

Turning away from his cell, Cyrus continued with the breakfast, ignoring the long ringing as he took a bite from the fruit. The room finally fell back to silence and Cyrus grimaced at the bitter taste. Dropping his spoon, he picked up the grapefruit and unceremoniously threw it into the bin, when all of a sudden his office door opened once more, revealing the crimson coutured figure of Mellie Grant.

Cyrus's grimace instantly changed into a self-satisfied grin.

"Welcome back to the White House, Madame First Lady!" He leaned back in his chair smugly.

Mellie's cold eyes pierced him then she took in a frustrated breath and closed the door behind her. "Ok Cyrus, just get it out now and we can get over it."

"Get what out?" He teased as she reluctantly stepped up to his desk and sat down opposite him.

"You know." She glared.

"I'm afraid I don't." He smiled.

"You do."

"I don't."

"That you were right!" Mellie finally forced out. "That you were _right _and I was _wrong_." She continued, through gritted teeth. "That Fitz is a child and would eventually understand what he needs to do to win."

"Apology accepted." Cyrus feigned thoughtfulness.

"I wasn't apologising." Mellie hit back quickly.

"You weren't?" He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "My bad."

Cyrus's cell phone suddenly began to ring again, causing Mellie's gaze to shift to James' blinking name. He let out an annoyed sigh and pressed 'end' then looked back to Mellie's watchful eyes.

"I only have time for one husband today." He made a quick excuse then indicated to his now silent phone. "And _that one _wasn't planning throw his entire life away just 24 hours ago."

Mellie straightened herself in the chair and smoothed down a crease in her perfectly tailored skirt. "I may not forgive Fitz's baffling pigheadedness when it comes to Ms Pope, but at least he has admitted his mistake, and now he knows where he stands. He knows he owes me. So I'm here to plan the next step. I'm here to plan our re-election: because unlike Fitz's inability to keep his pants on, I am prepared to do _whatever_ it takes to keep this White House." Her eyes steeled with determination.

Cyrus studied her for a moment then nodded thoughtfully to himself. "First off you need to fix what you broke." He began unsubtly. "Stop being the jilted wife throwing mud at her husband in the town square. You decided to air your dirty laundry in public, you're going to need to _reconcile_ in public too. We'll start off with couples counselling with your pastor then bring the kids in from school for some family bonding time with you and twenty of your closest press photographers. You need to appear loving, stable, harmonious, but most importantly, you need to appear like you're not some power hungry egomaniac who would stop at nothing to retain their hold on authority." He let his words hang in the air for a moment, then let the corner of his mouth curl into a small smile. "Do you think you can do that?"

Mellie gave him an icy glare. "I think I'm much better hiding it than _you_."

Cyrus smiled in wry conciliation and was about to open his mouth when loud ring of his cell phone interrupted him again.

"Your husband is certainly persistent." Mellie remarked coolly as she watched Cyrus pick up his phone and punch the 'end' button once more. "Would he be interested in hosting a joint interview?"

His eyes flicked back to Mellie's at her words, the memory of her backroom dealings with James still fresh in his mind, yet she continued unabated. "It could be quite a nice way to round out the whole story, if you know what I mean. The public love that sort of neat ending."

Cyrus could feel his insides stewing, yet he held it all down with a composed face. "I supposed they do." He remarked shortly, when suddenly his door opened and Mary hurried in, face flustered and eyes wide open.

"Mr Beene," His secretary rushed breathlessly. "You're going to want to see – " Her eyes passed over Mellie and instantly she cut herself short, the blood running out of her face. "Mrs Grant." She croaked out in surprise.

"Good morning Mary!" Mellie tried to put on her warmest smile as Mary stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Cyrus watched his dumb secretary with quizzical impatience. "Want to see _what_?"

Mary flicked her eyes back from Mellie to him and shifted uncomfortably in her stance, slowly beginning to back away out of the office. "Oh… it should wait till later."

"Not when you've come in all this way to interrupt my meeting!" Cyrus waved his hand dramatically. "What is it?"

"I can tell you after." She forced a polite smile.

"Don't mind me." Mellie interjected sweetly. "I'm happy to wait!"

"Is this about breakfast?" Cyrus barked.

"No sir." Mary answered quickly, still watching the First Lady.

"Good because I'm just about _this_ close to running off to Gettysburger just to spite you!"

His secretary's eyes shot back at him with a sudden determination. "You're not going anywhere, sir."

"And why is that?"

Mary quickly moved to his desk and picked up his TV remote and held it up to his wide screen, then pressed down.

The screen flickered to life.

Flashing lights, cameras shaking, reporters shouting.

Then he saw her.

He saw her in the middle of the swarm, face shocked as she was pulled away by figures in suits.

His heartbeat began to rise, the uneven tempo throbbing though his ears as a heat rushed up through his tightening chest and the bitter taste returned to his mouth.

His day was _definitely _ruined now.

**00000000000000000000000000000**

**NB:**

**Why hello there! Yes, it is I, Kronos, King of the Monkey People – and for some reason I'm adding this to the pile of far better season 3 fics. Something needs to get me through this four month wait, so here's me throwing my day dreams at you, if you want them. If not, my apologies. **

**Anywho, next chapter, should you choose to want it, we'll see what Fitz and Liv are up to in this sudden shit storm! So please review, even if it's to shout in defence of grapefruit, because reviews are the coffee to the caffeine addict of a monkey brain. Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. Chapter I

**Futile Devices – Chapter I**

"Why the HELL didn't you warn me?" Cyrus barked into his phone as he charged through the bustling hallway of the White House.

"What do you think I was _trying _to do, Cy?" James' frazzled voice responded through the small speaker.

Cyrus clenched down on his phone tighter, ignoring the shell-shocked looks on the staffers' faces as they were all glued to television screens, the footage of Olivia Pope's ambush stuck on constant replay. "You could have put a bit more effort into it! Called Mary, sent a homing pigeon, or, I don't know - _come straight to the White House yourself!_"

"I didn't have enough time! I only found out about it the same time the public did!" His husband's voice raised a pitch higher in anger.

"Well then,being married to a journalist really pays off!" Cyrus spat with sarcasm.

"I'm trying to help you here Cy." James emphasised in exasperation. "Look, I know the leak came from the White House."

Cyrus stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"Someone in the White House leaked Liv's name, and it's someone close."

"Who is it?" He shot out, the bile running up this throat. Someone had betrayed them.

"I don't know."

"_Who is it?_"

"I told you, I don't know!"

"You don't know or you won't tell me?" Cyrus growled.

"What about you, Cy? Did _you_ not know about Liv or did you just not tell me?" James countered in irritation.

"No comment." He responded coldly, then, before James could say anything more, quickly brought the phone down from his ear and hung up.

Cyrus' mind instantly ran through all the names that could have known about Olivia. Who would leak her name? What would they have to gain? Furrowing his brow, he stuff his phone into his pocket, took the remaining few steps and swung open the side door to the Oval Office.

Fitz stood behind the Resolute Desk, hair ruffled, tie missing and collar open as he talked to someone sternly on the phone. In the back of his mind, Cyrus noted that was wearing the same suit as the day before, but that was the least of his worries now, because around the large desk were huddled four senior White House staffers arguing amongst themselves.

Someone in the inner circle had just tried to bring down their administration.

No one could be trusted.

"Everybody out! Now!" Cyrus shouted, slamming the door behind him. Fitz's eyes shot up and the staffers instantly fell silent. With a few quick looks to each other they slowly began to back away until Fitz lowered the phone from his ear.

"Stop." His deep voice ordered decisively. "You're all staying."

Cyrus watched as the staffers froze in their spot, then took in a frustrated breath and stepped further into the office. "_Sir_," He tried cautiously, straining to keep it all in. "I don't think you understand – we need to _contain_ this."

Fitz put down the phone receiver on the desk and glared at him.

"_Cy_," He said darkly. "There is an entire _press core_ camped outside Liv's apartment right now. This is _not_ going to be contained."

He reached for the phone again when Cyrus quickly stopped him. "Ok, yes, Olivia has been thrown in front of this train, but that does not mean _we_ have to throw any more coal in the engine." He said delicately as he leaned on the desk and flicked his eyes to the staffers then back to Fitz, trying desperately to convey his meaning.

Right now, there were still only a handful of people who knew _definitively_ about the President and Olivia Pope. This could still be nipped in the bud. He knew Liv well enough to know she would never speak out openly, so all they needed to do now was find the one leak, silence it, then deny any inappropriate relationship with Liv. This could still be fixed. They could still contain it.

Fitz studied him carefully as Cyrus raised his eyebrows in emphasis, until he finally nodded slowly in understanding. Cyrus let out a secret sigh of relief as the President straightened up and turned to his waiting staffers.

"I am in love with Olivia Pope." He said simply.

The breath caught in Cyrus's throat and his heart clenched in panic. "Wait-!"

"I have been in love with Olivia Pope since I met her on the campaign trail three years ago." Fitz continued his confession unabated, his tired features suddenly melting away into a calm clarity. "I am sorry for lying to you all. I never meant to be dishonest or to betray your trust in me, and if you wish to leave or to talk to the press I understand, no one will stop you. But just because I am in love with a woman who is not my wife does _not _mean I am ready to give up my presidency. We have more to do for America. We have _a lot_ more. I cannot help who I love, but I can fight to the nail to defend my right to serve this country – and it would be my honor if you stood by me through it all. So, will you give me a second chance?"

The room hung in a stunned silence, when all of a sudden a proud smile rose up on one of the staffer's faces. "Always, sir." He nodded.

"Always." The staffer next to him echoed in agreement.

"I serve at the pleasure of the President." Another one spoke as she stood up straighter, then they all turned to the last staffer, who remained silent.

A small smile crinkled the edge of her lips as she looked at Fitz. "I always thought there was a connection between you and Ms Pope, sir." She mused, having been on the staff since the primaries. "So I will stand by you, Mr President – and I will stand by _her_ too."

Fitz's eyes shone with a tired humility as he bowed his head to them. "Thank you." His baritone voice hummed before looking back at Cyrus. "Now I need to find Liv." He said decisively as he picked the phone receiver up from his desk and held it to his ear.

"Sir, Mr President – " Cyrus tried to collect himself as the floor was once again pulled out from under him. "Olivia can handle herself. We've got our_ own_ media firestorm happening just a hallway away. The press core is one minute away from going _Bastille _on our arses. You also need to talk to your _wife_, who is currently sitting in my office, doing a very good impression of a stunned mullet, but I don't trust how long that will last before she turns Melzilla on us."

"Olivia was pulled away by two men in suits." Fitz gave Cyrus a stern look. "She was pulled away into an unmarked vehicle and hasn't been seen since. I need to find her." He emphasised, the emotion catching his throat.

"Ok." Cyrus relented, hands up in appeasement. He knew that look on his face meant he wouldn't be able to get through, so he tried to gather his thoughts. "We can find her. But we still need to handle the press. We need to give them something, anything - or they'll go out and find it themselves."

Fitz digested his words, his brow furrowed in thought before he finally opened his mouth. "No comment."

"Sir – " Cyrus tried.

"No comment till I call a press conference for a statement." He compromised.

"Ok." Cyrus sighed. "Good. We can work with that." He turned to the four senior staffers as Fitz's attention was brought back to the phone. "First, placate the press. Let them know a statement will be given, but do _not_ under _any_ circumstances, talk to them about Olivia Pope, the campaign, white pantsuits – _anything_. As of right now there is an indestructible glass dome of silence and secrecy over this White House and _nothing_ is going to come out. And second: I want the leak. I want him found now and I want him served to me with side of grapefruit and bacon. Is that clear?"

The staffers nodded seriously, as if ready to head into battle. "Then let's handle it!" He ordered, pointing to the door. The staffers turned and headed out of the office and back into the storm.

Cyrus watched them leave then took in a small, tired breath. He didn't know if they would get through all this, but he had to keep going. He had to win, or he would die trying.

Slowly, he turned back to Fitz when he saw his face had fallen while he gently hung up the phone and looked up at him.

"The two men in suits don't work for me." He said gravely. "They don't work for any government agency. No one knows where she is."

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The black limousine slid through the streets of DC as Olivia sat frozen on its large leather seat, staring at an all too familiar face.

Her father.

The shock she had experienced when she was first pulled into the car and confronted with his uneasy presence had quickly turned into anger and confusion. Her mind swirled with questions and memories, of wounds she had tried so desperately to forget, but had now been ripped open by his low voice.

His lies. His broken promises.

Her shattered hope.

His mouth twisted in a cunning smile. "You look well."

She couldn't speak. One look and she was back _there_, back as quiet little girl who saw too much.

"Let me out." She finally whispered, finding strength in her anger.

"Don't you want to talk to your father?" He smirked.

"Let me out." Her voice became stronger.

"It's been four long years. Have you missed me?"

"Let. Me. Out." Liv finally sat up straight on her seat and glared at him.

Her father studied her for a moment then clasped his hands casually on his lap. "Now Olivia, you know I'm not going to do that until I'm finished with you, so I suggest you sit back down and cooperate."

She was determined to remain sitting up just to spite him, but in the back of her mind she knew the only way to get answers was to play by his rules, so slowly, reluctantly, she leaned back down onto the black leather.

"What do you want from me?" She asked coldly.

"I'd have thought that was clear by now. I want you to stay away from the President." He stated simply.

Her thoughts were suddenly taken by a rush of insight. "You leaked my name to the media."

A look of something almost like pride rose on his face. "I did. With the help of an intermediary, of course."

"You didn't even need to do it, we were already over." Liv could feel her chest tighten.

"By what I understand, 'over' is not a permanent word when it comes to you two." He smiled to himself. "I needed to make sure I covered all my bases."

The anger that had been rising up inside her suddenly erupted through her. "Who gave you the right to meddle in my life anymore?" She burst out.

"I am not meddling in your life by _choice_, Olivia." Rowan responded calmly. "You just made the mistake of getting in my way."

"And what way is that?"

"You know me better than to ask."

Liv took in a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves, when suddenly a dark thought appeared from the back of her mind.

"Where's Jake?" She asked cautiously.

"Gone."

She nodded sadly. Of course he was. Everyone was gone. She could never win, not against him.

"And Huck?" She asked, fearing the answer.

He remained silent, causing her heartbeat to rise, before his low voice finally answered. "Huck will remain, as per our deal. And as long as you keep away from Fitzgerald Grant. Do we have an agreement?"

Liv looked at her father, the prospect of never seeing Fitz again gripping her heart with a sharp pain. But then her thoughts filled with the haunted chant of Huck, huddled in the dark corner, drowning in his ghosts. She needed to be there for him, for everyone. She had made a mistake, years ago, when she walked to that hotel room. That mistake had changed everything, had put everyone in danger. Now it was her time to fix it.

"We have an agreement."

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**NB:**

_**AHHHHHHHHHH! **_**What's this? Liv is agreeing never to see Fitz again?**

**Haha! – have no fear, even the total eradication of physics wouldn't be enough to keep these two stupid magnets apart! **

**Though seriously I need to take this moment to shower you all with cupcakes and hugs because last chapter when I was like 'review!' I did not expect anyone to, you know, **_**review**_**. It's honestly the best thing ever to know that someone's reading and hopefully liking it so thank you thank you thank you for being, well, YOU!**

**Now – back to the fic! What will Fitz say in his press conference? What will happen to Liv? Who was the leaky puppet? Why do I keep asking you questions? Is it because I have no idea what is going to happen? Is it because I have had too much sugar and have now become confused as to who I am or what I am doing? Drop in a line to tell me what you think – and I'll update as soon as I can!**


	3. Chapter II

**Futile Devices – Chapter II**

The iron frame closed on Olivia with a dull clang as the elevator jolted up into life. She fixed her eyes forwards, sensing the gaze of her father's imposing bodyguard from beside her while the low drone of the engine hummed through her small body.

She felt empty.

This was it. She could never have contact with Fitz again. Never stare into his blue eyes, never entwine her fingers in his small curls, never wrap herself up inside his strong arms.

Every time she had told him it was over, every time she ran away, he had only ever been a few steps behind. But now someone else took him away from her.

Now her father had won.

As always.

The elevator slowed into approach, gradually revealing a solitary figure, standing firmly in attention.

Huck's eyes met hers then flicked past, focusing instead on the pair beside her, belonging to the quiet escort. She could feel the tension between the two men rise, the two professionals staring each other down. But Huck was safe now. She had taken care of it. They were all safe.

Olivia stepped in between the two and drew open the heavy elevator door. Huck's eyes remained on the bodyguard behind her as she stepped out, but eventually turned back to her as the iron door slammed and the elevator hummed back to life, leaving them alone in the empty foyer.

Huck stood straight, watching her with a strange mix of grim determination and concern.

"We need to talk." He said simply.

Liv could only nod at the loaded statement. "Yeah." She agreed quietly. "Are the others inside?"

"Watching TV."

She took in a breath. Of course they were. "Ok." She nodded slightly, then turned from Huck and headed to the door of OPA.

The sound of the television hit her like a wave when she opened the door. A table of pundits argued back and forth as images flashed on the screen, memories of her and Fitz, now exposed to the world, hacked apart and analysed. Three figures stood before the large screen, watching intently, when they quickly turned around at the sound of the door.

"I knew it!" Quinn blurted out suddenly.

"How did you get in?" Harrison stepped in to interrupt.

"I knew there was something!" Quinn continued unabated.

"I tried to call but your phone was off - " Harrison remained in gladiator mode.

"I knew there was a reason – "

"There's about 40 press officers camped outside this office right now – "

"This is why Defiance happened – "

"It's time to break out the file – "

Liv could feel her heart rate rise as her two associates talked over each other, vying for her attention, while beside them Abby stood in silence, arms crossed and eyes sharp.

"I need to get changed." Olivia quickly announced, cutting the two short, then turned and headed to her office before they could say another word.

She felt exposed, powerless. Her father had snatched everything away from her then pushed her under the world's spotlight. But she was still Olivia Pope. No one could take that away from her.

Swinging open the closet door in her office, she took in a calming breath as she scanned her clean collection of spare suits, when her eyes fell on the perfect one. White, tailored, strong.

She quickly zipped out her running gear and untied her shoes as the helplessness of the morning slowly began to fall away. Her associates knew the truth about her, but in the back of her mind she knew they would eventually find out. She just had to hope that they would forgive her in the end, but even if they didn't, she would still stand by them. She would still protect them, no matter what.

Olivia slipped on her light silk blouse and fixed her pulled up hair in the mirror when she saw Huck open her door and slip in to her office quietly. She spun round to face him as he remained by the door, standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back, staring down at the floor.

"Huck…?" She asked softly, taking a step towards him, knowing to give him space for whatever he was struggling to say.

"You need to hire security." He muttered, before looking up from the floor and meeting her eyes. "Outside security."

"Huck - " Liv sighed.

"I haven't been myself for a while." He interrupted, his voice more assured. "For a long while. You got compromised, you got hurt and I failed you. I can't let that happen again."

"It won't."

"It will. These people we're dealing with, you know who they are, you know what they can do. A deal won't protect you forever." He stared straight at Olivia, giving her a knowing look.

Liv conceded with a reluctant nod. The thought of anyone from the outside coming into her carefully constructed world worried her, but she knew Huck was right. "So we hire security."

"Until this thing is over. I will find them myself. Good people. Quiet people. People who can be trusted. I won't fail you on this." He stood firm, his voice cracked with hidden emotion.

"I know you won't." Liv smiled sadly, then turned back and picked out her white double-breasted jacket and slid it on like a second skin. With one final look in the mirror, she took in a quick breath and stood up straight, then quickly turned and headed out of her office, buckling down her black buttons as she went.

"The leak came from inside the White House." Olivia announced as she strode out to her associates, who remained standing by the now switched off TV. "But that's the least of our worries now. Because right now there's an army of press embedded in front of this building that we have to deal with. And we need to deal with them _together_. So any questions you have, I will answer them honestly. Right here, right now." She stood confidently in front of them as they glanced at each other then back at her.

Abby remained firm, arms still crossed. "So, you and the President?"

The admission caught in Liv's throat, but she knew she had to let it out. "Yes." She finally answered, forcing her chin up.

Abby shook her head. "How could you let him use you like that?" Her voice dripped with deep disappointment.

"He didn't use me." Olivia quickly shot out in defence before she knew what she was saying. "He…" She tried to rally herself, but she knew she had to confess it. "We fell in love."

Abby just rolled her eyes while Harrison gave her a dark look and Quinn narrowed her eyes in quiet victory.

Olivia stood taller. She had to keep going, she had to make them see. "Neither of us wanted it, but we fell in love. From the very beginning, since when we first met on the primary campaign. We tried to break it off, I even left the White House, but it never truly ended. Until now."

Everyone looked at her with sudden curiosity at her last two words.

"Now it's done." Liv reiterated. "It's over. And I apologise to you all for keeping this from you. For a long time I thought it was only my heavy secret to bear, but I was wrong. Because you are my Gladiators. You are my family. And you are the only family I have. I see now that hiding this away from you, for all these years, that was a betrayal. It was a betrayal that doesn't deserve your forgiveness, but I still hope I can earn it."

The room fell into tense silence, as they studied Olivia then looked at each other, weighing up their decision.

"I don't forgive you." Abby's blunt voice cut through, her stance confident, but then she shifted slightly. "But that doesn't mean I won't help you. Over a cliff, remember? No matter what."

"Over a cliff." Liv echoed, the weight of those words hitting her with a dull pain.

"If we're going to do this," Harrison slowly stepped in, his voice low and controlled. "We need to find the leak."

"You could hack into the Post." Quinn attempted to offer indifferently, but then gave a small sigh, joining the fold. "I mean I… _I_ could hack into their metadata, see if there's been any increase in particular calls from the White House."

"We also need to schmooze the press." Abbey added, the energy of the room beginning to pick up. "See if there's any curve balls about to head our way. Pictures, recordings…"

"And meanwhile we should leak positive press on Olivia." Harrison quickly joined. "Drip feed them good deeds so she doesn't end up looking like a femme fatale if this goes on for too long – "

"I'm going to put out a statement." Olivia's voice rang out above them, freezing their brainstorm to an instant halt as they all turn to face her.

"What?" Quinn jutted out, startled.

"I'm going to put out a statement." She reiterated, calmly.

"Saying what, exactly?" Harrison tried carefully.

Liv could feel her chest tighten, but she knew this was the only way. It was over. She was moving on. She had to do it.

She took in a small breath and stood firm.

"Saying that I have never had sexual relations with President Grant."

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Fitz listened to the low voice on the other end of the phone with a stern brow. There was still no news on Olivia. The black limousine had been spotting heading north past Dupont Circle, but then all other traces were lost. He gave a small thank you to the agent on the line, then hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. Looking up from his desk, he watched as his staffers jostled around the office like frenzied stockholders. Phones switching with tablets switching with blackberries: all trying desperately to keep the White House bubble afloat, and all in denial that it had already been popped with the single name of Olivia Pope.

He needed to talk to her. Needed to see how she was handling it. Almost since the moment he met her, he had wished he could dash to a podium and announce his love for Olivia, but he knew he couldn't force her into the public eye. She was private enough as it was, she didn't need the world to know about their relationship unless it was minutely timed and strategized. But now that perfect plan had fallen into rubble, a tormenting ghost of what could have been.

He needed to know what she was going to do, he needed to correlate with her. He needed to talk to her.

Standing at the end of the lounge, Fitz's gaze caught Cyrus talking animatedly on the phone before hanging up with a small groan and looking back up at him.

"That was the Vice President's office." Cyrus grumbled in frustration. "The Grand Wizard requests a meeting with you."

Fitz's gave him a dark look. "I am _not_ going to sit through a smug sermon from that woman while she measures out the drapes. Tell her I'm busy. "

"Sir…" Cyrus gave him a look of wordless disapproval.

He knew Cyrus right. He needed Langston by his side through this, or at the very least not stabbing him in the back from behind. "Fine." Fitz relented, grudgingly, and was about to pick up the phone again when one of the doors opened and Mellie stepped in.

The staffers looked up at the First Lady and froze. Fitz stretched his fingers out and leaned on the desk, readying himself for the onslaught.

"Mellie?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

Mellie stood still at the door; hands clasped together, a prim smile straining on her lips. "Can we have the room, please?"

The staffers all quickly turned to Fitz. His wife was the very last person he wanted to deal with right now, but he had no choice, he had to appease her. He gave a small nod of confirmation and his staff immediately collected their devices and hurried out of the office, leaving them alone as he stared down at Mellie.

"I'm not the leak." She spoke out as soon as Cyrus left and closed the door.

"I know you're not." Fitz said with a tired sigh. He knew there was no way she would have gambled giving up Olivia's name since she had such close ties to the White House, and to her. It wouldn't take much effort to question how Mellie could not have known about the affair, and then even less to paint her as compliant with it. No, Mellie would not have risked so much, especially when she was back where she wanted to be.

"Good." She said shortly, surprised by his reply, but then collected herself and took a step forward. "Then we need to go out there, together. We need to make a joint statement and quash these rumours before they gain traction. We've done it before, we can do it again!" Her eyes widened in intensity.

"It's not going to be so simple, Mellie." Fitz let out tersely.

"Why? Because we don't know who the leak is? The leak has nothing. It has a name and that's it. Any other proof and it would have spread through the press like wild fire. We hold a press conference together, we deny any extra marital affair with Olivia Pope, and then it's over. I will make _sure_ it's over. Because you chose me. You chose to serve your country. You chose your _presidency_. And I am _not_ just going to stand by and watch some side-piece destroy _everything_ we've built!"

Fitz could feel his blood begin to boil as he gripped the corner of the desk tight in his hand and glared at Mellie.

"Mellie," He began slowly, through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice steady. "I just want to make this _one_ point _utterly _clear: I did not choose you. I did not choose to go back to you to retain my presidency, nor did I choose to come back because I realised my mistakes. _I did not choose you_." Fitz let his words reverberate through the office then straightened up proudly. "I chose _Olivia_. I will always choose Olivia. There is only one reason I am back by your side and that is because Olivia wanted me to. If you want to increase your political status, that's fine, I'm here for you, I'll help you in whatever way I can. But _don't_ go around pretending like I'm some dog back on your leash because I am _not_. I did not choose you."

Mellie looked stunned at his outburst, but then he watched as her eyes sharpened in realisation. "I should have known." Her mouth twisted into a smug smirk. "You wouldn't think to do anything unless it was the command of your _precious Fixer_. This is the woman you apparently _love so much_, the woman you were prepared to give everything up for, this office, your country, your family – but all she seems to do is leave you stranded. She leaves you for dead, the walls of your administration crumbling all around you, and yet you can still stand here and tell me _'I choose Olivia'_? You're right Fitz, you're not some dog on my leash. You're on _her _leash. And she's been pulling _tight_."

Anger rose through Fitz's chest, but her words didn't hurt so much as the shadow of truth behind them. He _did_ go back to Mellie because Olivia told him to. And she _did_ leave him, yet again. He had let himself fall under the whim of others. He had been pulled back and forth like a human puppet, been manipulated and persuaded and silenced - but he had let it happen. It was _his_ fault, but now it was time to take responsibility. It was time to make his _own_ decision and face the consequences, no matter what.

"Cyrus!" He yelled, eyes still fixed on Mellie defiantly as he heard the side door open.

"Yes sir?" Cyrus peered in, trepidatious.

Fitz gave one more look to Mellie then turned to his chief of staff.

"Set up the press conference right now. I am going to make a statement."

"A statement, sir?" Cyrus asked nervously.

"A statement. I am going to admit to the American People that I have been, and still am, in a relationship with Olivia Pope."

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**NB: But wait Fitz! Bad idea! Or Liv! You stop too! Oh wait, I'm writing this damn story – why the hell am I shouting at my own plot?**

***stares suspiciously at her fingers*******

**I think my digits have a mind of their own….**

**But enough about my world-domination-planning fingers, back to the story! So yeah, still trying to sort things out. Shonda left things in quite a mess so it will be a while till we iron everything out now. And my severest apology for how late this chapter has been. You guys have been more than amazing with your reception of the first two chapters (like more amazing than the amazing race. And the amazing spiderman. Like **_**jawdrapping, heart swelling**_** amazing) so I really hope this offering pleases you.**

**If it does, or if it disappoints you, or if you want me to shut hell up and keep writing, or if you just want me to shut the hell up completely: Please review! For those who read and review are gods among gods because they give this lethargic monkey the spark to carry on with this damn thing. So thanks!**


	4. Chapter III

**Futile Devices – Chapter III**

"You're going to _deny_ it?" Quinn's eyebrows shot up.

"Yes." Olivia replied assuredly.

Her four associates ignored the sudden ringing of the office telephones as they looked at Olivia in surprise.

"Liv, you can't just go out there right now and deny everything." Harrison started, stepping towards her. "This is a fresh leak. This is the start of a massive media stampede and we don't know where it's going to charge, let alone how it began in the first place. You can't face the bulls until we get a handle on this."

"If I wait too long before making a statement it will look suspicious." Olivia countered confidently. "Why would I hesitate in my denial if there is no truth in the accusation?"

Suddenly Harrison's cell phone went off. Everyone's eyes flicked to him as he slid out his phone from his jacket pocket and stared curiously at the screen.

Harrison looked up at Liv. "It's the White House." He said gravely, his voice low.

"Hang up." She ordered quickly, trying to ignore the flash of panic that gripped her heart.

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"He hung up!" Helen called out from the telephone as Cyrus bashed the keys on his blackberry then brought it up to his ear yet again, the familiar ring mixing with the pounding of his heart when the sound once again clicked to the prim pre-recorded voice of Olivia Pope.

"You know, what's the point of having a portable conversation device that allows you to contact someone at any time and any place – IF YOU DON'T FREAKING PICK UP!" Cyrus yelled into the phone then pulled it down and looked at his secretary. "Call them again!"

"I've called the office ten times already, sir." Helen sighed in exasperation as she held the receiver in the crook of her neck. "For some reason, they don't seem to be taking calls right now. I wonder why?"

Cyrus could feel his face flare up in anger as he stepped towards her. "This the White House. This is the executive branch of the United States Government. We have more military power then the rest of the world _combined_. We can get through to one little office in downtown DC!" He leaned in to her, staring her down.

"I'll try again, then." Helen forced a smile then went back to the dial.

Cyrus quickly turned and headed out into the hallway. He could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, trying to keep up with his mind as he charged through the hall towards the oval office. Leave the President alone for one moment as he goes back to square one. Now he had to play the babysitter, once again, picking up the pieces as the child went on another tantrum. Only this time is was different. This time the child's favourite toy had refused to turn up. This time he was alone without a distraction.

He pulled up his phone again and started to punch in Olivia's number.

"Cyrus!" The communications director ran up to him in the hallway, causing him to stop in his tracks. "The press are waiting."

"Good." Cyrus replied sarcastically.

"I told them the President's going to give a statement, but they're baying for blood. We can't leave it off any longer."

"Let them wait!" Cyrus proclaimed scornfully. "Who knows! A few more minutes in a small confined space with each other they may start attacking themselves! Then at least we won't have to deal with MSNBC!"

"Sir?" The communications director looked at him seriously.

"Fine." He huffed. "I'll get the President." He moved past him. "But don't tell me it's not a bad idea!" He shouted back then brought his blackberry back to his ear.

The now all too familiar voice message played again as he approached the oval office, and Cyrus waited for the sharp tone before he took in a deep breath.

"I don't know where you are, I don't know what your issue is," He ranted into his cell as he charged down the hallway. "But what I do know is that the President is about to do something _incredibly_ stupid. Something that will not help _either_ of us. Something that will not help _him_, or the republic, or freedom or life or the universe or _anything_! So if you are still alive and you do still have access to your own cell phone I need you to get your ass to the White House! Right. Now!"

"Mr Beene?"

"WHAT?"

Cyrus glared at a young aid as he stopped him just at the door of the oval office.  
"Sir, I need to talk to you." The aid tried, struggling under the fierce gaze of his boss.

"Go away." He grumbled, taking a step towards the door.

"I need to talk to you about Israel." He said a little louder, his voice still faltering.

"Go away _faster._" Cyrus turned his back to him and was about to touch the handle when the aid spoke out.

"A bomb went off in Jerusalem!"

Cyrus froze at the aid's words and slowly turned round to face the young staffer.

"What?"

"Two bombs, sir. Just then. Israel is under attack."

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Harrison slowly slid his cell phone back in his breast pocket, his eyes fixed on Olivia.

"So we're denying the White House too?" Abbey folded her arms and stared her down.

"Like I said." Olivia sharpened her gaze and spoke with a calm, clear voice. "I am _done_ with the President. That means I am also _done_ with the White House."

"Then how can you know whether or not they're just going to turn around and stab you in the back?" Quinn jutted in. "You need to make sure you coordinate statements, or just have some sort of dialogue with them. It's the _White House_. They're not the kind of enemies you want to have."

"They're not our enemies." Liv reassured confidently. "And they're not going to attack us. Not if I get out there first and deny it. I do that now, and they will have no choice but to follow."

Harrison furrowed his brow in thought. "But we still don't know who the leak is. We don't even know what they want. For all we know they're waiting to release a goldmine of proof the moment you open your mouth."

"They're not" Olivia replied quickly.

"How would you know?" Abbey shot back.

"Because I know." She answered defiantly.

Abbey studied Liv carefully when suddenly her eyebrows shot up in realisation. "You know who the leak is!"

Olivia remained silent as Abbey sharpened her eyes in victory. "You do. I know you do. Who is it?"

Liv looked at Abbey as her chest tightened in guilt. She couldn't keep hiding things from her team, but it was the only way they would get through. It was the only was she could keep them safe.

"I can't tell you." She said simply, a bitterness rising to the back of her throat.

"_Can't tell us_." Abbey repeated in disbelief. "I thought you said you were done with secrets, Olivia. Thought you said you were done with hiding. Now you can't trust us with this?"

"I do trust you."

"Do you?"

"She does." Huck's voice suddenly broke through before Liv could speak. Everyone turned to face the still figure as he lowered his brow sternly and held his hands tight behind his back.

"She trusts you with her life. And we trust her." Huck continued, voice strong, but staggered. "But this is big. Bigger, and deeper, than you can even imagine. So we trust Olivia on this. And we help her, with whatever she needs to do."

The room fell silent as Huck's words reverberated through them, when Abbey slowly turned to Olivia.

"Ok then." She started, her voice low. "Let's get you out there."

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Cyrus glared at the row of televisions, all playing the same regurgitated footage of the world's now most famous fixer. Olivia Pope counselling the President. Olivia Pope playing with the President's daughter. Olivia Pope being pushed away by two men in suits as she became swarmed in press. Every single image reiterated the problem, but right now he needed to find the image that could help fix it.

"For god's sake – some one put on Al Jazeera!" He shouted out in impatience to the staffers milling around the pit, when one assistant quickly grabbed the remote and scrolled through the channels until he finally landed on the correct one.

Chaos. Ambulances. Civilians in shock. A Rabbi praying over bodies.

This was the image he needed.

There was a sudden movement behind Cyrus as the President strode down the hallway with his entourage of staffers, heading towards the pressroom. Without a second thought, Cyrus turned away from the flickering screens and ran after him.

"Mr President!" He called out as he chased the pack of staffers. "We need to talk!"

"I am giving my statement Cy." Fitz replied in a loud, clear voice, his gaze remaining fixed in front of him. "And there is nothing you can do about it."

"I know that, sir." Cyrus finally caught up to him, feet scuttling fast beside the President's long strides. "But this is something else. Two bombs just exploded in Jerusalem."

Fitz stopped in his tracks, eyes snapping down to Cyrus, filled with a sudden sadness. "How many casualties?"

"We don't know yet, could be one hundred." He replied sombrely.

"One hundred?" Fitz echoed in shock as Cyrus studied his face carefully, looking for the right way to approach it, hoping he wouldn't let the opportunity slip from his fingers.

"Sir… I know you need to give your statement." Fitz's eyes flicked up to his, causing Cyrus to tread softer. "…but state of Israel has just been attacked. The whole of the Middle East is now switching onto red alert. We need to deal with this."

Fitz's brow furrowed in thought, his face torn in conflict as the rest of the staffers remained standing back, leaving them alone in the small corner of the hallway.

"Cyrus," He said with a low voice. "The press is in there waiting. I need to… every time I try to take that step, someone else pulls me back. _Every single time._ And I can't do that anymore, Cy. I can't be that person. I need to do this."

"So you do it." Cyrus said calmly, seeing his chance to go in for the kill. "You do it, and you prove the personal life of a President is more important than the mortal lives of civilians."

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"You're sure about this?" Harrison looked down into Olivia's eyes as they stood at the door of the office.

"I'm sure." She replied resolutely, but Quinn could have sworn she saw a faint twinge on sadness in Olivia's eyes. All those things she did for the President, she must have really loved him, in a way. But now she was about to give it all up.

Quinn looked away from her boss as the thoughts of lost love stung her with the ghost of her past. It was not Olivia's fault she fell in love with Fitzgerald Grant, nor was it her fault for Cytron. Quinn had to let it go and move on, just like Liv was.

Harrison opened the door and walked out with Liv, while Huck followed protectively behind her. Abbey remained standing in the doorway, silently watching them leave, the air tense with anticipation.

Quinn turned and picked up the remote to the TV, took in an apprehensive breath, then turned on the screen and awaited the storm they were about to create.

"…as the President has just called a press conference, we can assume…" The voice of the news presenter stopped Quinn in her thoughts. Grant was about to release a statement. Olivia had just left.

Quickly, Quinn darted away from the television and ran past Abbey and through the door of the office, just in time to see the elevator slowly close at the end of the hallway.

"Stop!" She shouted out as the iron frame locked shut. "Stop!" She sprinted to the elevator and punched the small button as Olivia, Harrison and Huck stared at her curiously through the heavy glass door.

"What is it?" Olivia wrenched open the iron frame, eyes serious.

"The President just called a press conference." Quinn rushed. "He's giving a statement. He's giving a statement right now."

Olivia's eyes widened in surprise for a second, but then she quickly moved past her and straight back into the office, without a word. Quinn watched as Harrison and Huck joined her, then swiftly followed after them.

Abbey had turned up the television, filling the office with the sounds of the pressroom, cameras clicking, murmured voices, rustling papers, when from the edge of the screen, the famous figure of President Fitzgerald Grant III appeared.

Quinn could sense Olivia tense up beside her as the man she had loved stepped behind the podium and looked out to the swarm of journalists, the lights flashing over his drawn face.

"Good morning." The President's deep voice cut through the room. "I have called this conference today to announce…"

Quinn heard Olivia's breath catch in her throat.

"…to announce that today, at 2:48 pm, Israeli time, two bombs exploded in the centre of Jerusalem, killing many civilians."

Liv let out a silent breath beside her as Quinn continued to watch the screen in disbelief.

"I have also called this conference to announce that I will be working hard with both the Israeli government _and_ the Palestinian Authority to make sure that the culprits are found, that they are brought to justice, and that the whole region remains stable and committed to peace."

"He didn't out you." Abbey's spoke up in surprise.

"No." Olivia said quietly, voice tinged with something almost like sadness.

"I thought he was going to out you." Abbey continued, but Liv just ignored her, brow furrowed in thought as she turned away from the TV and headed towards her office when suddenly Huck yelled out from his office.

"We've got incoming!"

Olivia quickly turned around as everyone headed to the small room to see Huck sitting at his computer, staring at the security feed. There, in the secure underground car park, was a single man, breaking into the fire escape.

"Who is he?" Olivia asked seriously, standing by Huck's shoulder.

"I don't know." Huck replied. "But it looks like we'll know soon."

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**NB:**

**WHY HELLO THERE!**

**Woa. Sorry about the capslock but it is late at night and I wasn't even expecting to write anything tonight when suddenly BAM! A whole chapter in one writing session! Which is not the way I usually work, to be honest… so let's just rejoice in that fact for a moment, shall we? …..yes…. that's some good rejoicing….ok enough. **

**Back to the story! Yes, I know, I saw you roll your eyes when it suddenly went all "Middle East International Relations" up there, but trust me when I say this is not a deus ex machine. There is a purpose with this, and I hope you stick with it – but I just want you to know the purpose, the centre, the entire backbone and spine and fulcrum and meaning of this fic is OLITZ! So please don't freak out at a little bombing. Even though freaking out is the correct emotional response to a bombing. But now I'm rambling. So now I will shut up. **

**So now to the real important thing – that is you guys! Honestly, I am just completely dumbfounded by your response and I love every last one of you! To all those who leave reviews as 'guests' so I can't respond to you – please accept this massive bear hug of love and appreciation! But yeah, you've been amazing, and I felt really bad not updating soon enough, so this chapter is literally a direct response to one of you telling me to hurry the fuck up. So reviews do work! So please keep reading! And please keep dropping a line to tell me what you think! And please just keep being the wonderful people you are!**

_**KRONOS AWAY!**_


	5. Chapter IV

**Futile Devices – Chapter IV**

"Do you think he's a reporter?" Quinn leaned in closer to the computer screen as they watched the mysterious figure ascend the fire stairs of their building.

"I'll deal with him." Huck's voice was low as he pushed out from his desk and stood up to leave, but Olivia's eyes were trained to the security footage, watching as the man rose closer towards them. Suddenly his head tilted slightly, allowing a brief glimpse under the wide brim of his cap.

"Wait." Liv called out, stopping Huck at the door, then rose up from the screen as the others turned to her. "I know who it is."

Before anyone could say another word, Olivia headed out of Huck's office and down the hallway to the main door. She could hear the footsteps of her associates following fast behind her but she didn't have time to explain. She just needed to get the man out of there. Walking out to the main foyer she passed the elevators just as the fire exit door creaked open and the figure from the security footage emerged, his casual sports jacket and baseball cap a peculiar change from his usual appearance.

"Hal." She greeted him shortly, folding her arms as she stood firmly in the middle of the foyer.

"Ms Pope." The disguised secret service agent replied in his customary monotone voice.

"Don't even think about it." Liv spoke out before he could open his mouth again. "I am not going _anywhere_. So you may as well turn around right now and tell him it's a lost cause, because there is no way I'm going to cooperate."

"I was not instructed to escort you anywhere, ma'am." Hal explained as he stepped towards her. "I was instructed to give you this." Stuffing his hand into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a cheap black cell phone, pressed one of the buttons, then held it out to her. Olivia looked down at the small device being forced upon her. Whoever was on the line, she didn't want to talk to, but she knew she had to - even if she immediately hung up. It was the only way to get Hal to leave. Reluctantly, she stretched out her hand, took the cell and brought it up to her ear.

"What the _hell_ is going on!?" The White House Chief of Staff's voice yelled through the speaker.

"Cyrus…" She replied tersely, spinning round to head back to the office and away from her eavesdropping associates.

"What, smashed locks and attempted assassinations not scary enough for you anymore?" He interrupted, his staggered breathing noticeable over the line. "It was all going so well! It was fixed! It was handled! Mellie practically_ skipped _into my office this morning and was _this close _to handing over the keys when suddenly our ride got t-boned!" Olivia opened her mouth to speak but he continued on, unabated. "But that isn't even the worst of it! The worst of it is that I've been spending my _entire_ morning trying to drag your boyfriend away from the podium before he brings out the lute to sing some idiotic love ballad and completely scuttles his own presidency!"

"What?" She stopped short just as she shut the door to her private office, Cyrus' words taking her by surprise.

"What do you mean, _'what'_?" He questioned brusquely.

"He was…" The realisation hitting Liv with a swell of conflicting emotions. "…he was actually going to admit it?"

"He was more determined than a virgin in heat. But wasn't it all part of your plan?"

"No." She replied quickly, concisely. "We're done."

He just scoffed. "Done as in _actually_ done or are you half way through getting matching tattoos? Because - "

"Cyrus!" She stopped him, then carefully tried to settle her voice. "I mean it now. I have no choice. We're done." Her words quaked with the sadness she had tired to supress.

"This is because of… "

"Yes." She answered quickly, unsure how safe their discussion was.

There was silence over the line, a moment of unspoken understanding, before he spoke out again, his voice uncharacteristically sombre. "Ok then…you're done."

Olivia sunk onto her office couch and leaned her head against her hand as she took in a small breath. She knew she shouldn't ask, but she couldn't help it. She missed him. And she couldn't cut off every single thread. Not yet.

"How is he?" She asked quietly.

"He's on the phone to the Israeli Prime Minister right now, trying to talk him down from nuking the entire Gaza Strip. How do you think?" He answered tiredly.

"Cy…" She sighed.

"He's… he's getting through." Cyrus relented. "From the sway in Mellie's slither this morning, he must have been pretty whipped last night. But today…" His voice suddenly turned. "Today, for a moment, he had that look in his eye. That determined look. That look that makes you believe he can achieve anything. That one that made _me_ believe I should make him president."

"Saved by the bomb, then." She joked darkly, trying to avoid thoughts of a purposeful Fitz and the sting of failed dreams.

"I just hope it stays that way." He grumbled.

"It will." Olivia sighed. "After I make my statement of denial to the press – "

"What?" Cyrus quickly interjected.

"I'm going to deny it, Cyrus. Then it really will all be over."

"The hell it won't! Didn't I teach you anything! You keep your mouth _shut_!"

"If I hesitate with giving a statement then I may as well go out and confirm it myself. The leak isn't going to speak or write or release anything else, so I need to go out there and quench the flames before it gets out of hand."

"I don't care if the leak has his lips sown up and his hands chopped off: _you do not say anything_." Cyrus ordered as Olivia rolled her eyes. "Who knows who this story will bring out of the woodwork! Some intern that saw you hug just a little too long on the campaign? Some assistant who put through a late night phone call? This one leak has instantly given everyone reason to doubt the President's fidelity – so if you go out there and deny it, if you force Fitz into denying it; all of a sudden there's going to be a lowly staffer giving a tell-all interview on BNC about the then-Presidential candidate and his fixer's _very_ close relationship on the campaign. Suddenly, not only is the man a _cheater_, but he is a _liar_ too. And you may as well stamp the seal on his impeachment letter right then! You. Do not. Say. _Anything_."

"We will have to stay silent forever, Cy." Olivia tried, her thoughts clouded by his words.

"Then we stay silent forever. We put this behind us and we carry on with our lives. As of right now, none of this ever happened."

The memory of a pair of stormy blue eyes pierced her mind, but then slowly faded away, overwhelmed with the words of her father and the dangling sword over her associates. "It never happened." She echoed, her voice hollow. Then, taking in a deep breath, she sat up straight on the couch. "Goodbye Cyrus." She said softly, unsure of her words' permanence, then, before he could speak, brought the cell phone away from her ear and hung up.

She stood up from the couch and straightened out her white jacket.

It was behind her now. She was moving on with her own life.

This emptiness inside her, this bleak sadness in her heart that he had once filled – she knew that would stay. There was no way to fix it. Yet she needed to carry on regardless.

And if that meant living a half-life, so be it.

She was still a gladiator.

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"My sincerest condolences, Prime Minister Eldad." Fitz spoke with a low voice over the phone as he stood behind the resolute desk, the eyes of the security and intelligence directors fixed upon him. "Our thoughts and prayers are with the victims of this horrible crime, and with their families."

"We've had enough." The stern words of the Israeli leader came through the speaker.

"Of course." Fitz sighed empathetically.

"Fifty-two Israeli civilians confirmed dead, President Grant." His voiced vibrated anger. "_Fifty-two_. In the very heart of Jerusalem. That's it. We will not stand by and let them do this to us."

"I know." Fitz agreed, steadily. "And the United States has sworn to assist you in any way through this investigation."

"We don't want your assistance." Eldad quickly rebutted. "We need your support."

Fitz's curiosity piqued over the Prime Minister's choice of words. "The State of Israel has always had our support."

"Then we are agreed." He ordered. "It is time to retaliate against Iran."

Fitz's brow shot up in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

"The Ayatollah believes he can strike at us and get away with it. But not this time. I am going to order move our Defence Force to DEFCON 3, and I ask for the United State's support in the Persian Gulf."

Fitz had to stop himself in thought. He knew Eldad had always been a bit over reactionary, but this was taking it too far. "Prime Minister, I know this is a tragic time, and I swear to you that you will have your retribution – but surely there is no need for deployment?"

"_No need_?" He repeated in disbelief. "Hezbollah was behind this attack and the intelligence proves it!"

"Which intelligence?" Fitz asked carefully.

"Your own intelligence!" Eldad huffed. "The CIA cables that are no doubt are sitting in front of you right now, recording all communication between a minister in the Ayatollah's office and terrorist operatives on the ground."

Fitz's glanced down at his desk, then looked up at the waiting CIA director. He had not received any intelligence at all. Was the Prime Minister lying, looking for an excuse to attack Iran? Or had someone purposely withheld crucial information from him? Whatever the truth, he knew he needed to tread carefully and control the situation before it got too out of hand. "Even with the intelligence, this is a time for restraint." He tired cautiously. "You move to DEFCON 3 now and the entire region will explode like a powder keg. I agree with you, Iran needs to be dealt with, but a pre-emptive strike is going to cause more problems than it solves."

"_They_ made the pre-emptive strike on _us_!" Eldad countered. "You can not expect us to sit by and do nothing while our people are murdered!"

"I am not asking you to do nothing, Prime Minister, I am asking for a proportional response." He pressured calmly.

"And what counts as a proportional response to you, Mr President? Attacking a Hezbollah base that has already been evacuated? Enforcing more sanctions that won't make a bit of difference? We have done all of this before and nothing has worked." The Israeli leader argued.

"Look," Fitz sighed in frustration. "Even if the Iranian Government is behind this, they have chosen to work in the shadows. Any defence movement from you will look like an act of unwarranted aggression, and Iran and its allies would respond as such. You will be one step away from all out _war_."

"So be it." He responded defiantly.

"Prime Minister Eldad." Fitz begged, closing his tired eyes. "_Saul_, please – do not go down a road you cannot come back from. _Wait_. _Watch. Heal._ See what happens after the dust settles before you take up arms for revenge." He hung on the silence, anxious for the response.

"We will wait." Eldad said finally, with reluctance. "But the moment there is any movement in Iran, I will no longer be held accountable for my actions."

The line went dead as the Prime Minister hung up on him. Fitz looked up at his directors as he tired to hold down the fire of anger building up inside him. Someone had deceived him, but he did not know whom. Suddenly Cyrus walked into the Oval Office, breaking the silence as he slid his cell phone into his pocket.

Fitz turned to his directors. "I want current satellite images of Lebanon, Syria and Iran and I want all the information about Hezbollah's recent activities." He ordered. "I want everything down in the situation room in fifteen minutes. Is that clear?" The men agreed dutifully then filed out of the office. Fitz looked at the remaining staff. "Leave us. I need to talk to Cyrus."

His Chief of Staff watched everyone leave then looked at him curiously as the door finally closed. "Sir?"

Fitz spread out his hands and leaned against the desk. "What do you think about the CIA intelligence linking the Ayatollah Mahdavi to the terrorist attack in Jerusalem?"

Cyrus furrowed his brow in confusion. "There is none."

"Mr Eldad seems to think there is." He folded his arms. "And he's inches away from pressing the big red button because of it."

Cyrus sighed in exasperation and stepped closer to the desk. "That man only needs to burn his toast to get on the war path."

"Well, someone seems to have set fire to his whole kitchen." Fitz remarked darkly. "He was fed that information by someone in the CIA. Whether or not the cables are real, there's something else happening here."

A strange look flicked across Cyrus' eyes before he nodded in understanding. "We keeping our cards close to the chest then, sir?"

"Cards close, mouths shut and eyes open." Fitz ordered.

"Yes sir." He agreed and turned around to leave when he suddenly paused at the door. Fitz watched him curiously as he stood with his back to him for a moment, then slowly looked back at him.

"Oh, I almost forgot…" Cyrus feigned nonchalance. "The Secret Service just informed me that they have located Olivia in her office." He turned back around and put his hand on the door. "Just thought you should know." He said quickly then walked out of the office, leaving Fitz alone by his desk, his small sigh of relief darkened by the ache in his chest.

She was safe, but she was still gone.

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Mellie glared at the television.

The screen flicked through footage of pain and devastation, yet still there was the incessant crawl of words at the bottom, reminding the world of the President and his whore.

Once again that woman had managed to derail everything Mellie had planned. If she could only see what they could have achieved together, all three of them, just like the days back on the campaign. But instead Olivia was as confusingly stubborn as her husband. And now she had Fitz tied around her little finger, leaving Mellie to once again hold the ship together with her own two hands while the entire world watched it sink.

She was not going to let those two horny teenagers drag her down. Not like this.

"Lucky break." A deep voice suddenly appeared behind her. Rising quickly from the lounge, she turned round to see that standing by the door, with a self-satisfied little smirk on his lips, was the tall, dark haired fixer, Richard Clark.

"How did you get in here?" Mellie looked at him coldly, trying to hide her surprise.

"It's a pleasure to see you again too, Madame First Lady." He crooned as he strolled into the sitting hall. "You forget that I have a few friends in this White House." She watched him in silence as he sat himself down on one of the chairs, spreading his arms out casually then nodded at the TV. "Rumour has it your husband was going to drop quite the bombshell this morning." He looked back at her. "Lucky thing the terrorists beat him to it."

Mellie swiftly held up the remote and turned off the screen then looked down at him with an unimpressed glare. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Now I understand why you brought me in before." Clark carried on unabated. "I just didn't recognise to what extent Olivia Pope _handled_ your husband." He smiled.

"What do you want?" Mellie asked quickly, unamused.

"I have come to offer up my services." He pronounced with a small flourish of his hand.

"How thoughtful of you." She responded sarcastically. "But I not need anyone's help right now, thank you very much." She gave a forced polite smile and held up her hand to guide him to the door. Instead he remained sitting, his face turning serious as he studied her carefully.

"What is it you _want_, Mellie?" He asked, brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry?"

"Do you want your husband to love you, or do you just want _power_?"

"I want to be First Lady."

"As it stands, you've only got a year left of being First Lady. And that brief time gets even briefer if you count the scandal your dear partner has dragged you into." Richard narrowed his gaze. "So what is it? Love? Or power?"

Mellie watched him shrewdly as she slowly lowered herself back onto the lounge and placed her hands neatly upon her knees, back straight. "What do _you _want, Mr Clark?"

The fixer smiled to himself. "I want your name. It's about to be a wild world out there now that Olivia Pope has fallen, so to have someone like _you_ on my client list? Well, you can't blame me for being a little pro-active, can you?"

She gave him a small smile and looked him up and down, still trying to figure out his motive. "And if I were to bestow you with my name, what 'advice' would you give me?"

"Divorce your husband." He replied simply.

"What?" Her eyebrows rose up in incredulity.

"You need to get out of this marriage. Right now."

"And forfeit my political position? Are you insane?"

"No. Just ambitious. And I know you are too." He sat up in his chair. "The last time I checked, you were sitting a good 25 points above your husband in the opinions polls. You want to hold on to your authority? Fine. I can do that. But not while you've still got President Philander on your team. Divorce him, and you can get your own political position. Divorce him, and you can run for President _yourself_."

Mellie let out a small chime of laughter. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am." Richard fixed his gaze upon her.

"I've never been voted into public office." She tried to dismiss, while his suggestion slowly built in temptation inside her.

"But you've visibly been a partner with your husband in every one of his public offices. The American people view you as the power behind the throne. And why not? You did come first in your class in Harvard Law; you have the brains. And you've lived on Pennsylvania Avenue for three years so already you have more credentials than half the possible candidates. So why not? Look me in the eye and tell me you've never wanted that oval office for yourself."

Mellie looked away, his words slowly building a fire of possibility within. "I will admit." She began carefully, not letting him win so easily. "I have humoured the thought occasionally."

"And why wouldn't you?" Richard dove in enthusiastically. "You're not some mindless ornament, you're a _leader_. And it's time to make your own path. So what's it going to be?" She looked at him as he leaned forward and met her eyes.

"Love? Or power?"

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The sound of the commotion outside was suffocating.

Staring at the remnants of her half eaten lunch, Olivia sat at her desk as listened as the clatter and shouts of the army of press rose up along the walls of the building and through the glass windows of her office.

Hours had passed and all she could do was wait and sit. A dark ominous cloud was building in the Middle East and she couldn't even watch the news without being confronted with her own storm.

She looked around her office, the place that had for so long been a source of comfort and empowerment to her, now felt like a padded cage, closing in around her. She needed to get out. She needed to do something, anything, to make her stop feeling like her free will had been snatched away from her. But it had.

Standing up from her desk, she walked decisively out of her office and into the main room, where Abby, Quinn and Harrison sat around the television. Noticing her enter, Harrison quickly turned off the screen and stood up.

"There's rumours Hezbollah was involved in the bombing." He explained, courteously.

Liv quickly tried to supress thoughts of how Fitz was handling the crisis and focused on her associates. They looked as trapped as she was. She had raised her gladiators to slay dragons and defend the helpless, but now all they were doing was sitting around, watching the news for her.

"This won't last forever." Olivia reassured them, as she tried to reassure herself. "The mania will pass, we'll get some new clients, and we'll go back to normal. We just have to get through the next few days."

They nodded politely, but she could tell they doubted her words as much as she did. Would there ever be a 'normal' again? Would they not just be better off without her even there?

Trying to evade her thoughts, she turned around and headed towards Huck's office. He looked up from his computer as she walked in and promptly closed the door behind her.

"How are we going with the extra security?" She asked, making herself stand straight.

"I have found some suitable candidates, and I am contacting them now." Huck bent over in his chair. "Tonight I will do more check ups, and if they pass, I will bring them in tomorrow."

"Good." She said, but remained standing in front of his door.

"Good?" He looked at her curiously.

"I was…" Olivia started, then let out a tired breath. "I need to get out of here. Just for now, just for tonight. I need you to find me a hotel room. Somewhere safe, away from the press."

"If you leave this building I will have to stay with you." He looked up at her, brow furrowed.

Liv could help but give a small smile. "That's ok, Huck."

"Ok." He looked away, his mind moving into deep thought as he calculated his possibilities. "Ok. Give me one and a half hours. I will get it ready."

She watched with smiling eyes as he turned back to his computer and opened up a new tab, ready to help her however he could.

She may have been trapped inside a cage, but at least she believed in the reason she was in there.

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Fitz trudged down the hallway of the White House, flicking a glance out of the windows as he passed. The thin line of the sun skimmed the horizon, leaving a blood red sunset that faded into blackness. He must have been in the situation room all day. Time flies when you're talking down two countries from all out war.

He let out a tired sigh and rubbed his eyes as he continued down the hall, staffers deferentially moving to the side as he passed through with his entourage of security. It had taken all his effort to hold back the Israelis, but it was still not enough. Someone had leaked information on the mysterious CIA cables to the press, causing Iran to proclaim it as some sort of Mossad conspiracy. Fitz still didn't know if the intelligence was real. The CIA Director had seemed flummoxed when he was questioned about it, and even Cyrus had not been able to weasel out any inside information. Now they had to watch with baited breath as two countries stood at the knife's edge, waiting for the United States to make its move. Waiting for _Fitz_ to make his move.

He walked through the oval office and thought he heard his secretary say something to him but right now he didn't want to know. The world was falling apart upon his shoulders and need a minute, _one minute_, to face it all again.

Shutting the door behind him, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

_Her._

He shook his head. He couldn't think about her anymore, not now, not when she left him once again. She was safe, and that was it. He opened his eyes again and headed towards his desk. He had the world to worry about, yet there in the back of his head, with a voice he tried to ignore, was the reminder that he would get through it all better and stronger, if she were by his side.

Slowly, Fitz sunk down into his chair, when the door opened and his secretary cautiously tucked her head in.

"I'm sorry Mr President…" Lauren started with a small voice.

"Not at all." Fitz gave a tired smile. "Come in."

She shuffled in carefully and handed him a piece of paper. "It's just a quick overview of your adjusted schedule tomorrow. I've had to replace a few things with the more crucial meetings you missed today while you were in the situation room, but we should be able to fit it all in."

Fitz picked up the paper and scanned its crowded lines as he rubbed his tired brow. "Don't be too sure about that." He sighed. "Who knows what madness tomorrow will bring." He looked up at his secretary with a wry smile but was met with a strange look on her face.

"Lauren?" He asked, concerned as her brow crinkled up and her skin flushed red.

"Mr President," She finally let out, her voice quivering. "I'm… I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you or the administration, but I had no choice…"

"Lauren." He repeated with a low voice, standing up and resting a light, comforting hand on her shoulder as he lowered his face to meet her gaze. "What is it?"

"I…" She tried to start, flicking her eyes away. "I'm the leak. I told the press about Olivia Pope."

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Richard Clark hugged his coat tighter as he walked down the gravel pathway of the public park, the sound of his footsteps crumbling into the quiet night. At the fork in the path, standing by a bombastic bronze sculpture, he could make out two dark figures, surveying the green with their severe looks.

He had the right place.

Slowing down his pace, he strolled past one of the large men in black, giving him a wink, then turned the corner at the base of the statue too see the person he came to meet.

"Rendezvous in parks at night is always a bit tacky, don't you think?" Richard mused aloud as the man turned to face him. "I mean, they're just one fifty dollar handshake away from turning a bit naughty."

The man looked unamused. "I do not care about what you usually do in parks." His deep voice dripped with disdain. "How was your meeting?"

"She didn't _completely_ drink the Kool-Aid, but the seed is planted." Richard looked the man up and down, measuring him up. "And for someone as blindly ambitious as Mellie Grant, I suspect it won't be long until she starts writing up her own campaign placards. Though, god knows, she'll be crushed as soon as she enters. So I've got you to thank that my first ever Presidential campaign will be a complete joke."

"I don't remember promising you any favours, Mr Clark." The man gave him a look that made his blood run cold. "Contact me when she agrees to run." He finished simply, then popped up the collar his dark jacket and walked off into the shadows of the park, his entourage of dark figuring following slowly behind.

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The dark hallway crushed in against her.

She kept running, running into the blackness, the heavy footsteps speeding up behind her, moving closer, getting louder. She tripped on the deep red carpet, bringing her down to the hard floor. Quickly, she scrambled away under the desk, hoping to disappear into its shadows. The footsteps slowed, then faded away, but then became replaced by the faint sound of panting, of a whispered chant beside her in the darkness. Her eyes turned to see a figure crouching next to her, rocking back and forth. She shuffled closer to get a look at his face, when suddenly she realised he was covered in blood, a thick red blood that trickled down his body as he trembled through his murmured mantra. With a voiceless cry she jumped away from the figure and back in the hallway when her back hit something hard. Holding her breath, she carefully turned around, when she met a pair of kind blue eyes, filling her up with a sudden warmth. A soft, strong hand moved along her neck and cupped her cheek when suddenly the world filled with a deafening bang and the blue eyes went out.

"No!" Olivia cried, grabbing the sheets in a tight fist as her eyes flew open.

The hotel room was calm. Open. She stared up at the ceiling as she tried to steady her breaths and expel the ghost of her dream.

There was a sudden rustle from the corner of the room. Liv's eyes flicked down to see Huck standing in the shadows, standing awkwardly as he watched her with a curious look on his face.

"Huck?" She propped herself up on the bed. "What is it?"

He twisted his mouth, as if he had a bad taste in it. "You have a visitor." He finally spoke out. "In the lounge room."

Olivia quickly drew the covers away from the bed and got up. Giving Huck a silent look, she walked past him and through the doorway into the open lounge room of the hotel suite.

A figure stood in the middle of the room, bathed in the warm light of the nearby lamp, a black sweater hoodie stretched out over his wide back. His name caught in her throat as he turned around at the sound of her footsteps and locked on to her gaze with his pale blue eyes.

_Fitz_.

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**NB:**

**And so he did, and so shit's gonna go down next chapter, and so holy crap this chapter is kinda long, isn't it?**

**Well – in my terms it's long. So… that's long. I'm just going to see how many times I can use the word 'long' in this note. Don't worry, it won't last long. I don't have that long an attention spam. **

**Anywho, first things first – Sorry for all the plottiness! I know when it comes to fanfiction, the last thing anyone wants is plottiness when there's no reason you can't just cut straight to the sweet fluffy inards – but I've never really been able to write like that, so I hope it's not too boring, and I hope you keep with it. **

**Also – In case you're wondering who the flying hell "Richard Clark" is, he's actually John Barrowman's Fixer character who appeared in 2.21. I wanted to use his real name but it seems Shonda Rhimes didn't bestow him the honour of one, so I thought I'd name him Dick. Because Long Dick. **

**But now I need to collapse into a pile of braindeadness after finishing this chapter. And the only way to bring life into me is reviews! And kind of reviews! Even if it's just – yo, I read your thing, it sucks long balls – I will harness all that power of your awesomeness (because seriously, I cannot say this enough, I love you guys and you ARE awesome) channel it into one of those spindly hamster wheels, let that charge an electrical current down the rod and into my brain where I will then rise from my slumber a drooling and hopefully writing mess! So thanks!**


	6. Chapter V

**Futile Devices – Chapter V**

Olivia froze in her spot.

Her heartbeat raced and her mind flooded with questions and warnings as he stood before her in the hotel lounge room, the look on his face unnervingly indecipherable. There was a quiet footstep beside her.

"Huck." She said to her shadow, keeping her eyes fixed on the silent visitor.

Huck simply nodded in wordless understanding and swiftly moved to the door and stepped out to the hallway. The soft click of the closing door fell to deaf ears as the room thrummed with a tense electricity, their eyes locked together in a silent stand off.

"What are you doing here?" She questioned. Blunt. Cold.

"We need to talk." His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine that she tried to ignore. Now was not the time to remember how much she missed him.

"You need to _leave_." She replied quickly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Olivia." He said with calm defiance, still standing on the other side of the room.

"_Mr President, _you are on the brink of a Middle Eastern _war_. You cannot be visiting your ex-girlfriend in the middle of the night in some hotel room. You need to be back at the White House and you need to be _handing_ this!"

"I have handled it. I _am_ handling it. But there is no way I am leaving this room until we've talked." Fitz put his foot down but Liv just crossed her arms.

"Fine. We'll talk: how did you find me?" She questioned brusquely, trying in vain to keep up her walls against his disarming presence.

"Tom's been following your man Huck since this morning." He gave a slight nod to the door. "I knew he wouldn't leave your side."

"Well _congratulations_, you were right. Now you can leave." She gestured away but Fitz remained where he was. He stood silently, slowly looking her up and down before settling back on her steely eyes.

"How are you?" He asked, simply.

"I woke up this morning to discover I'm suddenly the world's most infamous woman because someone told the press I slept with the married President of the United States. How do you think?" She rebuffed in an attempt to push him away.

A rueful look crossed his face. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need your apologies." She tried to brush off.

Fitz narrowed his eyes, watching her carefully. "I know who the leak is."

"What?" She let out in surprise. How could Fitz know about her father?

"My secretary, Lauren." He continued, studying her face as she let out a secretive sigh of relief. "She admitted it to me tonight."

"So you've come all this way and jeopardized your Presidency just tell me you fired some girl?" She raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"I've come to tell you that I _didn't_ fire her." He countered to her surprise as he looked away. "She thought I was using you, thought you were just some woman on the side until…" His blue-grey eyes flicked back to hers. "Until I called that press conference. Until I was prepared to tell the world that I loved you."

"Except you didn't." She said quietly, the words coming from her mouth before she could stop them.

"No." His brow lowered and his voice fell. "I didn't."

The room fell into a painful silence, drowning them with haunting ghosts of their failed dreams and lost potential, as they stood frozen in their place, fixed in their aching gaze. Suddenly Fitz let out a tired, broken sigh.

"What is this, Livvie? What are we even doing here?" He looked at her, his face open.

"We're doing what we have to do." She said softly, the answer automatic like a well-practiced mantra.

"_What we have to do_..." He repeated ruefully, nodding as he digested her words. "What we have been _told_ to do." He looked away in thought. "I went to college, joined the navy, married Mellie, ran for Governor and for President…I've always done what others have told me to do and now here I am – sneaking out of the White House to see the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, but instead having to settle for one stolen minute in a hotel room." He shook his head and took in a deep breath. "I'm done, Liv. I can't do it anymore. The hiding, the secrets, the back and forth – You said we were in this together, I said I was going to resign, we even sat down and watched the clock run out on my marriage; but every single time you run away. You run away and I'm left _broken_."

"You think I _want_ to run away?" Olivia shot back in anger.

"I think you're scared of being hurt." Fitz countered matter of factly, then slowly stepped towards her, finally moving from his fixed position on the other side of the room. "I think you believe that I'm going to leave you, that I'll reject you. And I have, Liv. I left you at that funeral and I went back to Mellie when you told me to. And I'm sorry for that. I am more sorry than you can imagine, but you can't let the past control your life. You left me and I left you. But now it's done. The secret's out. The world knows. There's nowhere else to run, nowhere else to hide or deny or pretend. There's just us." He moved closer to Liv, her heart slowly beating faster as he approached. "It's you and me, Livvie, and we can get through it, _together_. You just have to stop running." He stepped up to her, their bodies inches away from touching and his breath hot against her lips as she felt her eyes being involuntarily drawn up to his. "_Please._" His deep voice hummed as he looked down at her with a knotted brow. "Stop running."

Olivia tried desperately to collect her thoughts while his proximity intoxicated her with a heady force. They couldn't do this. She made a deal. A deal to protect her gladiators. A deal to protect _him_. Her lips suddenly dipped closer to his when she quickly pulled back, the words stalling from her mouth as she looked up into his pleading eyes.

"I…" She breathed in, dreading what she had to say. "I can't."

His face instantly fell. Broken.

He took a step back and immediately she felt a ghostly chill where he had once stood.

"Fitz…" She tried, but she knew she couldn't explain. Instead she looked on, helpless as he hung his head and closed his eyes in pain.

"Don't you trust me?" He looked up, finally, his grey eyes edged with red.

"I trust you." She answered without a second thought.

"Then why are you running?"

"I can't say." She hated her answer.

He looked straight at her, his eyes turning hollow at he studied her face. "Fine." He muttered quietly, his shoulders dropping. "If you don't want me, then I can't stay." He turned to door, a shadow of his former self. She watched as he stepped further and further away from her, her chest tightening in a sharp pain.

"No." She suddenly found herself calling out after him, but he still continued, bringing his hands to the door handle. "I want you." She continued, desperate to stop him.

Fitz froze in his place and Olivia's heart leapt with a slight hope. "I want you, Fitz." She tried, taking a step towards him, his back still turned. "I've always wanted you. And I don't want to run anymore." He finally looked back from the door, surprised by her words. "But it's not my choice." His brow lowered in concern as he turned around fully and instinctively slid a soft hand beneath her hair and carefully cradled her cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I…" She started, but she knew she couldn't hide it any longer. She had to tell him the truth. "What do you know about B613?"

His hand fell to her shoulder as his eyes widened in shock then slowly darkened with concern. "I heard about them a couple of times, back in the navy." He answered carefully. "But what have they got to do with us?"

"For some reason, they want to keep us apart." She stopped short, but she had to go on. "I know what they can do, so when they threatened my associates, I had no choice. I had to agree."

Fitz's face instantly knotted with fear. "Did they threaten you? _Livvie?_"

"No." She hastily lied, sharing in his relief as he gave a thankful sigh. He didn't need to know anything that would pointlessly hurt him.

"That means they got to Lauren too…" He spoke out in thought. "She said someone made her do it. But _why_? Why don't they want us together?" He looked into her eyes and softly brought his wide palm back to rest against her cheek.

"I don't know." Olivia answered honestly.

Fitz studied her expression when his lips slowly twisted into a sad, wry smile. Letting out a short breath, he leaned in close and gently rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I used to think as long as we were together, we could solve anything." He mused, his deep voice vibrating through her. "But that's not the case now, is it?" He pulled back slightly and looked down into her eyes.

"No." She smiled sadly as she felt the weight of the outside world bearing down on both their shoulders. "But I'm still going to try."

Fitz's eyes shone with love and pride. "Together?"

She couldn't agree with him. She had to stay away, had to end it, for everyone's sake…but Fitz was right. They were the only two left. And for better or for worst, they _needed_ each other.

"Together." She finally answered, causing him to break out into a wide smile that she couldn't help but mirror. Their lips met in the middle, instinctively, touching delicately then slowly deepening. Hands snaked around backs and through hair while they breathed each other in, asking for forgiveness and washing away the pain with their kiss.

There was a knock on the door.

"Sir?" A muffled voice from the hallway brought them back to the dark hotel room and reality.

"Coming, Tom." Fitz called out after he pulled back slightly from Olivia. She looked into his eyes and knew the spell had been broken. There was still the leak. There was still B613. The world was still against them. And yet, there was also a sense of determination, that they wouldn't let anyone break them up. Not anymore. Not when they had been through so much.

Fitz sighed, reluctantly moving away with a frown when Olivia took his face into her hands and fixed her gaze on his.

"Together." She repeated, voice strong.

His lips dipped up into a smile then he quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then with one final look at her, turned around, opened the door and left.

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**NB:**

**Yay! Together! But hold that happy dance for just a second – what does 'together' actually mean, especially when you've got a super secret spy club run by a psychotic darth father running after you?**

**So yay! But also damn.**

**Oh well, at least these silly little geese finally realised how useless they were without each other. Although even with a those truth bombs being dropped, they still kept a few things to themselves now didn't they? Hmm... But now I need to shut up before I fall asleep on this keyboard and you end up with ten pages of adkjfa;lkklllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll;;;;;;l;; ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;**

**But seriously though – can I just take this moment to thank every single damn one of your for reading? I know I've said it before but I can't say it enough, your response to this fic just knocks my socks way off that I have to go fish them out of my neighbouring tree. You regularly make my day and to those who write guest reviews so I can't personally give you a bone crushing hug of love – THANK YOU! I just hope you all like this chapter and that you keep reading, but if you don't like it and you want to burn every word I've ever written, please still drop a line and tell me what you think. **

**But for now – SLEEP!**


	7. Chapter VI

**Futile Devices – Chapter VI**

The morning sun broke through the long white curtains as Fitz leaned back in his chair, his hand stretched along his brow. He had barely slept since he returned from seeing Olivia. When he arrived back to the White House he went straight to the Oval Office and sat behind the Resolute Desk. Sometimes thinking, sometimes sleeping, but always tortured with his thoughts and memories.

He had seen war. Seen what it did to people. Seen what it did to _him_. And now he found himself standing between two countries who seemed determined to bring about their own destruction. His mind wandered back to his past, but he stopped himself short. He couldn't go back there. Not now. Even though Olivia had found herself tangled up within it. How did she know about B613? What did they want with her?

The memory of her soft lips upon his swept through him like a quenching wave. It had only been a few days since they last were with each other but it still felt like an age. Like he hadn't been able to breathe until she was there. But now they were in this together. So many times she promised it, but this time he knew it was true. Because this time they had nothing else to lose.

The side door opened, knocking Fitz from his thoughts as Cyrus strode in, waving a stack of newspapers in his hand.

"Read all about it Mr President!" He walked up to the desk while Fitz slowly moved upright in his chair. "Iran Provokes Israel While Grant Stays Silent!" Cyrus smacked down one newspaper on his desk, the headline bold and clear. "Diplomacy Fails as Israel Moves Missiles!" He threw down another paper. "Grant Distracted By Scandal As Israel Calls For Support!" And another. "Exclusive: Amanda Tanner's Pope Connection!" He smacked down the last paper then glowered at Fitz.

"It's good to know that you're single-handedly keeping the newspaper industry afloat, Cyrus." He said smoothly, flicking through the large pile of papers now amassed on his desk.

"Don't ever underestimate the power of a dramatic entry, sir – but that's not my point right now." Cyrus' nostrils flared as he leaned his hands on the table. "CNN, FOX, BNC, MSNBC, even _PBS_ has been onto you this morning. Everyone is asking what the President is doing with the Middle East situation, wondering how we're going to proceed with Iran, wondering whether we should be carrying a larger stick - but you know what the worst thing is out of _all_ the possible bad things they could be talking about even with a potential all out nuclear war between Israel and Iran?"

"What?"

"_They're still talking about Olivia!_" Cyrus cried out in frustration. "Because who give a flying shwarma about other countries on the other side of the world when this one guy heard from another guy who overheard it from another guy that the President liked to duck off to hotel rooms with his close advisor for some 'heated debate prep' during the campaign?"

"What are you trying to say?" Fitz asked shortly, no longer amused by his Chief of Staff's antics.

"I'm saying it's time to make a big move with Israel and Iran. Make your mark. Don't let this crisis go to waste." Cyrus pressured.

"I'm not about to let my own personal problems dictate our country's foreign policy, Cy." Fitz stood up from his chair and strode around the table to stare him down. "So don't even think about leading me down the war path for our own petty needs."

Cyrus threw up his hands in appeasement "I'm not trying to start a fight here, sir, I'm just saying from a Public Relations sort of view you need to be seen out there doing things, talking on phones, pointing at maps, shaking diplomat's hands. They need to see you doing Presidential things or all they'll have to turn to is hearsay about you being caught with your pants down. Whether you like it or not, sir, this is a crisis we _need_." He stared into his eyes, trying to plead his case, as Fitz instead studied him carefully.

"Can I trust you?" Fitz finally spoke as Cyrus brow bunched up in confusion.

"What?"

"Cyrus Beene," Fitz reiterated with a clear, strong voice. "Can I trust you?"

Cyrus looked him square in the eye, his face stern. "To the death, Mr President."

Fitz nodded slowly. Despite his tendency for manipulation, lies and ruthlessness, Fitz still couldn't help but trust him implicitly, because behind those cold eyes still shone the strong flame of loyalty.

"Ever heard of B613?"

Cyrus's face subtly contorted into a strange look. "They…" He started, then quickly stopped. "Yes." He eventually forced out. "They are a part of the CIA. But they're also _outside_ the CIA. Spying… assassinations…everything."

"They were behind my navy mission in Iran." Fitz admitted quickly, not wanting to dwell on the past.

Cyrus gave a small nod in understanding, then look back up to him. "So what do they have to do with us now?"

"Lauren!" Fitz called out, when the door promptly opened and his timid secretary hurried in.

"Yes Mr President?" She asked, giving a nervous look to the Chief of Staff.

Fitz decided to cut straight to the chase. "Why did you tell the press about Olivia?"

"I…" Lauren started, when she was quickly interrupted by Cyrus.

"_You're_? Wait – what?" He blurted out. "_You're_ the leak?" He stepped closer to the secretary. "_You're_ the one who talked to the press? _You're_ the one who threw us all into this god awful mess and left us here to squirm under the eyes of the world's media? It was _you_?"

"Yes." Lauren answered meekly, now cowering against the wall

"You're fired." Cyrus proclaimed decisively.

"She's not." Fitz countered.

"Well, she is now!"

"I'm not firing her, Cy." He reinforced.

Cyrus spun round and faced him with bemusement. "This is not time to take clichéd proverbs to heart, Mr President. They may say 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer', but they also say 'The pen is mightier than the sword' and you're sure as hell not going to ride into battle armed with a fountain tip!"

Fitz remained unmoved and instead turned back to Lauren. "Why did you tell the press about Olivia?"

"They…" She started, averting her eyes from Cyrus' fearsome glare. "They knew I had a husband… who cheated…and then they mentioned my brother. He's in the army. He's on his third tour in Afghanistan. I didn't want anything to happen to him."

"It won't Lauren." Fitz replied with a low voice. "I will make sure of it."

"Sir." Cyrus's voice whispered sharply in his ear as he stepped in closer to Fitz, careful to keep his words secret. "I know she seems like a sweet girl and 'woe is me' but do you remember that this is the woman who threw Olivia under the train?"

"Of course I remember!" Fitz hissed back. "You don't think I feel a stab of pain every time I look at her, knowing that she is the reason that Olivia has been forced under the public eye against her will?"

"Then why don't you fire her?"

"I can't. She was lied to and threatened. I can't blame her. Also if I fire her they'll know why. They'll know we're onto them."

"Who?" Cyrus whispered.

Fitz simply raised his eyebrows and Cyrus immediately understood his answer. _B613_.

"How do you know that?" He questioned.

Fitz stopped himself, wary to reveal too much, but knowing he had to let Cyrus in fully if wanted his help through this.

"Olivia told me."

Cyrus' face dropped, then he quickly pulled away and looked at Lauren, still standing by the door.

"We're going to need the room now." He ordered.

"Of course, um, sorry. Thank you. " She edged over to the door and pulled it open before she turned back. "Oh and ah, Mr President, would you like me to schedule in half an hour with your children this afternoon?"

Fitz's head quickly snapped to her. "_My children_?"

"Yes sir. They just arrived about 45 minutes ago. You didn't know?"

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"_Did you know about the President's affair?"_

"_Are you part of the cover up?"_

"_Have you slept with Olivia Pope too?"_

Harrison kept his head high and his posture straight as he pushed through the rabid swarm of reporters, their microphones and cameras cluttering his path to the building's entrance. Day two and they still were not showing signs of thinning out. If anything, he noticed the throng had grown larger. Witches hats had been placed around camera vans, yellow caution tape had been strung up along pathways – deep roots had been formed. Harrison swerved past the last camera then shouldered through the glass door and into the refuge of the office foyer. Olivia told them it wouldn't last forever, but one didn't need an eternity to cause serious damage.

"Nothing like a little Press Core Pushing to wake you up in the morning." He looked up to see Abby standing by the elevator with Quinn, a dry smirk on her face as she sipped her takeaway coffee.

Harrison didn't reply as he walked up to them and collected the large coffee cup that Quinn held aloft.

"I even had a few extra enthusiastic ones sitting outside my apartment this morning." Abby continued with a droll voice.

"One of them pretended to be my Chinese take-out." Quinn added, then lowered her eyes, focussing on her cup. "He kept calling me Lindsey."

The elevator stopped with a clang and Harrison stepped between them, pulling open the cast iron door. "It won't go on for much longer."

Abby raised an eyebrow and followed him in. "You seriously believe that?"

"Yes." Harrison replied quickly, trying to disguise the doubt in his mind as Quinn entered and closed the door behind her. "I do. The press has the world's shortest attention spam, they will find something else, they always do. In the mean time we don't say a word.

"My lips are firmly sealed." Abby gave a tight smile. "But that doesn't mean I won't give Olivia a piece of my mind."

"Abby." He chastised, but she continued nonetheless.

"I mean, how _stupid_ could she be to let that sleaze into her life? _One:_ He's married. _Two:_ He's the President. And _three_: He's the married President! I know the man looks like Clark Kent but she had to know what sort of shitstorm she was getting herself into. I mean, did she actually expect him to leave his wife for her?"

Harrison watched as Abby went on her rant, trying to keep his mouth shut. He couldn't help but agree with her. It didn't make any sense, Liv being a willing participant in an affair. She always had everything in control, always knew how to handle things, but when he found out about the president and confronted her about it, just the look on her face confused him. And scared him. This was not the Olivia he knew. This was the Olivia that_ He_ turned her into.

"Who knows." Harrison finally spoke up. "But no matter what happens, we keep our mouths shut." He looked Abby in the eyes, hoping to keep her in line, uncomfortable with the truth in her words.

"I'm not going to talk to the press, Harrison." Abby's face turned serious. "This is Olivia we're talking about. When I hit rock bottom, she was there to help me, no matter what my mistakes. But now she made the mistake. So it's my time to be her Gladiator."

The elevator jolted to a stop at their level as Harrison studied Abby then gave a small smile and turned to open the iron grate. The three of them walked out in silence as they headed towards their office door and to their own personal purgatory, where all they could do was to sit and wait for the world to let them breathe.

Pushing open the door, Harrison stopped short as he spied three tall men standing around the table in their meeting room. He flicked a wary look to Abby then to Quinn, would was already creeping into the office, eyes fixed on the three strangers. Harrison silently closed the door behind him then followed Quinn in, when around the corner he saw Huck standing with the silent figures, staring each of them down.

"Huck?" Harrison cautiously decided to speak up as he stepped closer to the room. "What's going on?"

Huck finally turned around to see the three of them looking into the meeting room curiously when suddenly the door beside them swung open.

"Everyone I'd like you to meet Daniel, Lonny and Martin." Olivia strode in, a vision in white with her head held high and a file in her hand as the recently identified men turned to the associates and gave simple nods of acknowledgement. "They will be helping us with extra security, until this thing is over." Olivia stopped at the large wall of windows then looked them all in the eyes, waiting through the silence for their response.

"Extra security…?" Quinn finally spoke out, flicking a look to Huck.

"Yes." Olivia answered confidently.

"Look, Liv." Harrison stepped forward. "I know there have been some incidents lately, and I don't mean any offense," He nodded to the three security men then turned back to Olivia. "But don't you agree that now's not the time to let in people we don't know?"

She gave him a long look then turned to the silent men with a polite smile. "Can we have the room?"

The men immediately turned and filed out of the meeting room, closing the door behind them. The room fell into an expectant silence as the four of them looked to Olivia, her eyes scanning over then, before she took in deep breath.

"I've lied to you all." She confessed with a clear voice as the room froze. "I've concealed things, distorted facts and withheld truths. I've done all this to protect you. I have only ever lied to protect you. But now, something has happened that I cannot hide from you any longer…because I need your help. This is bigger, deeper, and more dangerous than anything we have faced before so if you have any doubts in joining me then you should walk out that door right now."

Harrison watched as a tiny flash of fear crossed Liv's eyes as she waited in silence. But nobody moved. They were still her Gladiators.

"Ok." Olivia breathed out in quiet relief. "Ok." She repeated more firmly. "Then it's time to meet who we're up against."

She pulled out a photo from the file in her hand and pressed it against the window. The three of them edged in closer to get a better look as she removed her hand from the image and took a heavy step back.

There, in a worn out photograph, sat a young handsome black man on the stone steps of an old Victorian row house, his serious eyes staring out through the picture as his mouth pushed itself into a small forced smile. But sitting on the step below him, playing with the hem of her little white Sunday dress, was a small girl, no older than five. Her unruly hair was gathered up into two buns, her shy face was still plump with youth, but the resemblance was undeniable.

It was Olivia Pope.

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**NB:**

**Awwww - little cute Olivia Pope with cute little daddy issues. So cute and Freudian! Which must be two words that never appear in the same sentence so go me for firsts! But yay family issues! And yes, what are those invisible children doing in Washington? Are they actually figments of Fitz's imagination? Who knows? I honestly wouldn't put it past Mellie to go along with Fitz's hallucination of children if it meant she could do her own scheming things while he ran around playing tennis with himself weekend after weekend. **

**Come to think of it, that's kinda depressing. **

**But enough doom and gloom – things are happening! OPA has a task! Cyrus knows about Olitz reunion! Fitz knows that Cyrus knows about B613! People are talking in elevators! OMG CRAZINESS!**

**So now this is where I should shut up so I shall, but not before I get on my knees once more and bow down to your glory, fair reader, because you guys continue to rock my world with your reading, your reviewing, your words, your presence, just everything. So thank you! And have a cookie! It's made of love and is delicious and has no calories, so have all the cookies! I'd rain them down upon you but they're quite hard and I don't want you to get hurt. So please just accept a handful of them as I run away and try to get onto the next chapter just for you! So review! Or don't! But please do! Thanks!**


	8. Chapter VII

**Futile Devices – Chapter VII**

Fitz leaned nervously on the balls of his feet as he stared at the doors of the elevator, the small compartment moving painfully slow through the levels. Jerry and Karen were there. Mellie had actually flown them in from school. A flash on anxiety hit his stomach. It had only been a few days since he had tried again and again to call them after Mellie's interview, but every time they refused to pick up. They must hate him; of course they must hate him. He knew how it felt to have a father's infidelity thrust up to your face. He knew the sting of betrayal.

The elevator finally halted to a stop and the doors slid open, revealing the hallway of the residence. Fitz paused for a moment, the weight of guilt sinking his feet through the floor. He knew how they must feel… but this time it was different. Olivia was different. He stepped out into the hallway and headed straight to the sitting room with a sober resolution. They wouldn't forgive him. He had no right to ask them. But he still had to try, because while it was Olivia who brought him back to life, it was his children that gave him the reason to live in the first place.

The muffled chatter of a television drifted through the door as Fitz stepped closer to the sitting room. "Karen?" He asked in a soft voice as he crossed the threshold and looked in. There was no one there. Fitz scrunched his brow in confusion and peered around his shoulder to the empty hallway. "Jerry?" The name echoed through the residence, but there was no answer. He was about to turn around to search the other rooms, when suddenly his ears caught on a familiar voice coming from the TV.

Mellie.

His stomach dropped as he swiftly moved into the room to get a proper look of the screen. Mellie's perfect white teeth cut into a fake smile as she stood outside a Veteran's Centre, backed up by a group of wholesome looking army wives. But it was the figures at the edge of the screen that seized his gaze. There stood Karen and Jerry, with Teddy carefully wrapped up in his big brother's arms, staring curiously at their mother while she took in the questions from reporters with well practiced deflection. A boiling anger rose up inside Fitz. What the hell was Mellie planning, using their children as a political mask? They had already put them through enough in the past few days not to throw them in front of the national media.

"When was the last time you spoke with Olivia Pope?" A journalist barked as the mess of microphones and recorders inched closer to Mellie, who simply brushed past the question with a saintly look.

"Today is not about me, but about these inspiring ladies." She indicated to the woman around her. "Me and the kids are huge fans of the Military Spouses Choir, so when we found out there were having a fundraiser this morning I just jumped at the chance to give them a hand."

"Did you know the President was having an affair?" Another voice chimed in.

"What I _do_ know is that these woman have given up so much to help those who have served their country." She artfully dodged. "And they remind me of why I am so proud to _serve_ this great country, and how much more I have to give."

"Do you have hopes for your own political future!'' Another voice shouted, his words bringing out a secret smile of pleasure that Fitz recognised all too well. She paused and let the moment linger, while Fitz glared at her image on the screen suspiciously.

"Well Dan, these past few weeks, I have done some deep soul searching about what it means to serve. The American public have been so kind and supportive of me but like these women here I find myself asking what more can I do? What can I do to get this country I love back on the right track? So, after talking long with my closest supporters, and with my children, I have decided to set up a Presidential exploratory committee."

"_What?_" Fitz sputtered out in the empty sitting room while on the screen his children's eyes widened in surprise.

"This great nation has serious problems, and I hope the American people believe me when I say I am serious about fixing them."

Fitz was struck dumb as Mellie's eyes turned steely with determination. She was actually going to run for the presidency. She had gone completely mad.

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Mellie gave a final wave to the crowd then slipped down into the leather seat of the limousine and slammed the door closed. Immediately she brought out her phone, hitting speed dial while she evaded the looks of Karen and Jerry as they sat the opposite her in silence.

"How did I go?" She asked excitedly, as soon as the line connected.

"Perfect." Richard Clarke's voice crooned over the phone. "You played the press like a natural."

"I didn't come off as too arrogant? I know I should have mentioned the public more." She flustered, trying to remember every detail of the press conference; how she stood, where she looked, what words she emphasised – everything had to be perfect.

"The American people are already aware that they exist. You don't have to remind them of that fact." The Fixer blew off coolly.

"Was it too long? Or too short?"

"It was exactly what it needed to be. Short, sweet, and reminded the public just why the love you in the first place. It's the next step that will be the hardest."

"Building up my credibility." Mellie reminded herself.

"Exactly. We've got Wolf Blitzer tonight, O'Reilly tomorrow and Charlie Rose next week. But in the mean time we keep the sound bites short and precise: You are qualified, you are serious, and you are here to win."

Mellie took in a confident breath and sat up on the leather seat. She was here to win. No one was going to hold her down any longer. "The lawyers are at the hotel?"

"And waiting for your arrival." Richard answered. "But now I've got to organise your economic advisors. See you in ten."

The line went dead, leaving Mellie alone in the limousine with her silent children. She dropped the blackberry from her ear and began to type out an email as she tried to avoid their gaze, wishing they would stop looking at her with their small questioning eyes.

"What's happening?" Karen's small but forceful voice finally spoke out.

"We're going to stay at the Four Seasons for a couple of days then we'll fly back to California for a week or two while we get everything organised." She answered nonchalantly, still focused on her cell phone.

"No, I mean _what's happening_?" Her young daughter repeated, unsatisfied with her answer. "Why are you running for President?"

Mellie looked up from her blackberry, giving Karen a pointed look. "You don't think I'd make a good President?"

"I... Yeah. Of course." Her small shoulders shrugged in defeat. "But mom, you've never been elected to anything. Like, don't you have to be like a senator or governor first?"

"Sweetie, to run for office you have to be well known, well liked, and rich." Mellie replied shortly. "I happen to be all three."

"Well, you could have told us before you told the press." Karen crossed her arms and slunk back into the seat.

"Of course I was going to tell you." Mellie's voice dripped with sweetness. "But I didn't know they were going to be there so it just slipped out before I had the chance to properly talk to you both." She leaned closer to them, ready for the kill. "_I _never hide anything from you."

Karen's eyes dropped in understanding while Jerry turned to look out the window. Mellie sat back in quiet satisfaction. She had never had her children's full support, but coming in to the election she needed them more than ever, and now she knew how to get them on her side. The limousine fell into a heavy silence, until Karen once again looked up at Mellie.

"If you're running for President though… are you going to divorce dad?"

Her grey blue eyes pierced her. She had always been closer to Mellie in looks and temperament, but she had her father's eyes. Karen had that hint of humanity that Mellie forgot if she herself had lost, or if she ever had it at all.

"Well," She looked away, uncomfortable under her daughter's gaze. But she had to say it. She had to make that leap. "I can't keep him with me, can I?"

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**NB: **

**Oh my holy god Mellie is actually going to get a divorce. Can I just hold my hands up to the heavens, fall upon my knees and say A-fucking-MEN!**

**I mean, yes, she is doing a completely crazy and self-absorbed thing, which will no doubt turn out to be 17 different shades of stupid – but who knows? America has elected worse people to office!**

**But first – sorry about the shortness of the chapter and the lack of Olivia but I just wanted to get something out there to you all because I've been a horrible writer and don't deserve any of you readers. But now my brain is switched back on into writing mode and I have some extra time to sit and think and smack my head against the keyboard – otherwise known as 'writing' - so it won't be a year until the next chapter. In fact, it may even be a couple of days till next chapter! I know! What is this concept of regularity? Madness!**

**But now to gather everyone up and give you a giant bear hug and shower you with flowers and particular thanks to those who have nudged me during this hiatus asking where the hell the new update is, because knowing there are people who still want to read this story really do fire up the inspiration engines. So thank you thank you thank you. **

**But now, back to writing!**


	9. Chapter VIII

**Futile Devices – Chapter VIII**

"Rowan Pope."

Olivia turned away from photo and faced her silent gladiators, their faces wide with surprise.

"Born in Chicago on 17th December, 1947." She continued with an emotionless voice as the photo behind her burned hole in her back, rousing a flood of faded memories she tried desperately to ignore. The touch of worn carpet, the smell of aging wood, the thunder of angry words. So many times she had considered throwing it out, but instead she kept it hidden in the darkest corner of her office closet like Pandora's box. It was the only photo she had left of him. "Attended Harvard University. Began working for the CIA straight out of college, as a part of the Directorate of Operations. Married Carolyn Margaret James in 1975, and had one child together in 1977." A stillness hung in the room as she stood exposed under her gladiators' gaze. "Later became the head of a separate, top secret division of the CIA, known as B613."

In the corner of her eye, Olivia could see Huck shift uncomfortably in his spot as the others looked over at him, then back at her, slowly processing the information.

"So…" Harrison finally broke the quiet as he leaned against the table. "Your _father_…he is going after us?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because of my relationship with the President." She answered bluntly.

An awkward silence swept through the room, as Abbey flicked a furtive look at Harrison then back at Liv. "Why..." The redhead started, her brow creased in confusion. "Why would he care about the affair? I mean – besides the obvious reason."

"I don't know." She offered up honestly. The same question had raged through her mind ever since that agent broke into her apartment. What had she done to get in her father's way? What could he possibly want with her? "But I think there is a bigger reason. Three nights ago, he sent an agent to my apartment to scare me. Then yesterday he threatened me, saying he would go after you all. He has been trying too hard to keep me away. Too hard that I don't think this is personal. There is something else going on here, some reason he wants the President alone, but I just don't know what. So I need your help."

Olivia paused, watching as her gladiators absorbed her hidden life. The people she had fought so hard for, but was now placing straight in the firing lines. "I'm sorry for bringing you into this." She quickly added. "I never meant for anyone to be brought into this. I was planning to follow his terms, I agreed to stay away. But then I realised, by letting him win, I stopped being your Gladiator. I put your lives in his hands. I betrayed your trust. And now the only way I can get it back, is to end this. To stop him, once and for all."

"Then we stop him." Harrison replied strongly, standing up from the table as the others looked on in agreement. "We find out what he wants, and we stop him."

"How do you spy on a spy?" Abby offered, her face serious. "How do you spy on _the_ spy?"

"By gathering whatever we can." Quinn answered, slowly growing in confidence. "Every bit of information, every sighting, every contact. We built up enough little pieces, we can get a rough idea of what he's planning." She looked to Huck for approval, but he remained silent, brow furrowed, hands clasped behind his back. He flicked his gaze to Olivia in a wordless question. She gave him a quick nod, to which he quietly turned and left the room. Her heart sank as she watched him slip out of the door. It wasn't just personal for her.

"Where – ?" Abbey started as her gaze followed him out.

"Leave it." Olivia responded softly.

Abbey sat down in her chair in conciliation, while Harrison started to pace, arms crossed, running a finger along the edge of his chin. "If we're going to do this, we need to know everything you know about him."

"I told you, I'm not keeping anything from you anymore." The honestly and openness of the words felt strange in Olivia's mouth.

"When was the last time you saw him, apart from yesterday?" He stopped, looking her in the eye.

"Over four years ago. After I found Huck." She felt the weight of the photograph behind her as her thoughts were pulled back to that dark night. "He came to take him away again but I made a deal. I would be able to keep him under my wing, as long as I never revealed what I knew from his past, and that he remained inactive."

"And then before that?" Abby added.

"When I was 22." She admitted with a short, steady voice, trying to hide the sudden rush of loneliness she had unleashed through saying the words.

"How did you find out about B613?" Quinn asked carefully.

"At first, when I was young, I only knew the name. Then over the years I heard rumours, speculation. It was the night he tried to take Huck that I knew I was right. That it was all true."

Her three associates looked at her in silence as the magnitude of the task had finally caught up to them.

"We'll stop him, Liv." Harrison spoke out in reassurance. "You trained us well."

She felt awkward, trapped between the past she tried to forget and the world she spent years creating. It was as if they saw her for the first time, her old weathered armour now fallen to her feet. She had seen all of them at their worst moments, when they were fallen apart and were a shadow of their own selves. But she was the one that put them back together and made them even stronger. Now it was her turn, but she wished more than anything for it to be over.

"Liv?" Harrison's low voice broke her from her thoughts, causing her to look back up at the others. "If you want, you can take down the photo." He said, his eyes shining with loyalty. "We don't need it up there. We got this."

Olivia quickly nodded, her voice disappearing. She hated feeling like this, feeling like the child again under her stern father's watchful gaze. She tried to pretend she was strong enough but her gladiator's knew the truth. They knew her better than she knew herself. She turned to the glass wall, flicking a final look at the worn photo, the young man faking a smile, and the little girl wanting to hide from the world around her. With quick fingers, she peeled back the image from the frosted glass and hid it back between the folds of the envelope.

Her breath returned, her shoulders slid back and the unnatural grip on her heart finally melted.

She was Olivia Pope again.

And she was going to stop her father.

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"How do we get onto the spies?" Quinn burst out after she bounded into Huck's cluttered office and closed the door on the two silent bodyguards, still waiting in the lobby. Huck remained sitting, eyes fixed on the screen as he replayed security footage from outside Olivia's apartment, the mass of press and reporters milling around the doors like ants as he speeded through the film. "I mean, your B613 people." Quinn continued, her voice racing with excitement, leaning on the table beside him. "can we get on the radio, see if they want to meet up, see if they know anything?"

Huck's eyes remained trained on the flickering footage. "They won't meet up." He said softly, his voice dry and monotone. "And they won't say anything."  
"Then what if we, you know…" She started slyly, slinking into the chair next to him. "_Be persuasive_? One of them has to have been close to Olivia's dad, known the sort of things he gets mixed up in. You and me together, we could track them down, take them away, ask them a few _questions_. As long as we make sure he doesn't tell. No one can know we're going after B613, otherwise Rowan will know we're after _him,_ and then all hell would break loose. But if we get the right guy we won't need anyone else, we could get everything we need to know, we could help Liv in just one night, if we do it right! What do you say?"

"No." He answered with a small voice, still looking away.

"What, is there someone else we can get?" Quinn questioned quickly, leaning in on her chair.

"No." He responded again.

"No what?" Her eyebrows raised in bafflement.

"I'm not…" He paused the video and dropped his eyes. "I'm not doing it."

"But…" Quinn started in surprise. "How else can we find out her father's plan?"

"I don't know." He admitted gruffly. "But I'm not going anywhere."

"Huck!" She pleaded, grabbing the side of his chair and spinning it to force him to face her, but he kept his eyes forced down. "It's Olivia where talking about here? How can we help her?"

"I am helping her." He murmured darkly under his breath, his head still down. "I am protecting her. I made a mistake before and now I am fixing it. So I'm not leaving her side." He flicked up his eyes, looking straight at her. "You can go off, you can find the spies, but I know these people. I was _one of them_. And I know we're not going to win this. Not against _him_. So if we're going down, I'm going to protect Olivia. I'm going to be the last man standing. I'm going to be the last man by her side."

Quinn watched as his stern face scrunched up in determination. "I knew a guy once, a quiet guy. Said just one person could change the world, if he had a quick brain and large bandwidth…" She remembered sadly, then slowly pulled herself up from the chair and walked over to the door, when she stopped and turned back around.

"I know this is bad for you, I know. I know what we're up against is bigger than anything we've ever faced, times a thousand. But I'm a gladiator. I don't wait, I don't stand – I fight. _We fight_. So you can sit here and review the same footage over and over again, but I'm going out to see if I can be the one person who changes the world."

She quickly turned back round, opened the door and strode out into the hallway.

If Huck wasn't going to find answers, then it was left up to her to get them.

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Olivia opened the closet door and reached down though the layers of clothing to the old shoe box hidden in the corner. Lifting up the lid an inch, she slid the envelope in then quickly closed the box shut and pushed it back to the dark of the closet. She let out a small sigh of relief then stood up again and was about to close the closet shut when she heard a sound behind her. Turning round, she saw Abby standing in the threshold of her office, with a curious look on her face.

"What is it?" Olivia asked softly, trying to hide her weariness. It didn't take long to see that Abby didn't approve of anything to do with Fitz, and was she never one to keep her opinion to herself.

Abby just looked at her for a second then finally stepped in. "I don't like kids." She announced, making her way to the couch. "They're bratty, high pitched annoying little pigs who need constant food and stimulation. I don't like them. I never have." Olivia watched on in confusion as she sat down on the couch. "But there was this one time, at the end of my marriage - it got a bit heated and I needed to avoid the house, and my husband, for a few hours, so I went off for a walk. And eventually I found myself walking past a children's playground. So I just sat there and watched. I don't even know why, but I did. I sat there, for ages, just watching these little kids laugh and play and be _happy_. And I thought: _'I can't bring up a child in my house. In my world.' _I never wanted kids before, but it was that theoretical child, and the broken life it would live under its father – that I knew I had to leave. I knew I had to call you and ask for help."

She paused for a moment as Olivia took a soft step towards her, aware that this was still vulnerable ground for her.

"The thing is though," Abbey continued. "It was only recently that I realised I was wrong. I didn't care about some theoretical kid. I didn't want kids. I was just using this idea in my head – this dream of another person, to give myself a better excuse to leave my husband, rather than just how _I _felt, and what _I _wanted. I thought I was being selfish, so I created someone to fight for. But I shouldn't have needed anyone else. I should have admitted I had done it for myself. There is _nothing_ wrong with that, but I just didn't know it at the time." She sharpened her gaze at Olivia. "You say you're taking on your father to protect us, to serve us. And I think you believe that – I think your natural state is protection – but the thing is, that's not the _real_ reason you're doing this. You're doing this for _yourself_. And that's _great_. You deserve happiness, Liv. You deserve a real life. You have helped all of us time and time again so don't you dare think we won't stand by your side while you fight for _yourself_. We've wanted our chance to help you for years."

Olivia stood stunned as Abbey leaned back into the couch. "And if you're planning to stick with this man of yours, throughout all the crap, then I guess you truly do love him. And that's… that's something I'm not going to judge."

Liv felt a smile rise to her lips, as it was mirrored by Abby. She opened her mouth to speak, to try to thank her, when all of a sudden the room filled with the shrill ring of a cell phone. Abby looked down to find the small black cell that Hal had delivered the day before, vibrating along the cushion of the couch. Picking it up with her hand, she considered it for a second, then held it out to Liv.

Olivia took in a deep breath then took the final steps towards her, picked up the phone, clicked the small black button and held it to her ear.

"What?"

"I need to see you. Right now. I'm sending some men over."

Cyrus. Of course it was Cyrus.

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**NB:**

**Boop boop! I mean – what? Ok. I'm tired so this probably will be a boring NB so sorry. But yay! New chapter! And in less time than it takes to grow a red wood pine tree! Which, you know, is kinda rare for me. **

**But yes, this was all OPA fun times with talking and story time, so I hope you like it! …..woa…I'm really running out of NB juice here. I wonder what 'NB' Juice stands for? Nutella Beetroot Juice? Actually… that could be kind of delicious. **

**So now I'll shut up, but not until I collapse on the floor to praise any and everyone out there for taking the time to read this and review it I just really want to build you a shrine so that's not crazy, is it? No. I don't think so. So thanks! Get ready for some show downs next chapter! But no show tunes. Unfortunately. **


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